The Life, and Posthumous Writings, of William Cowper, Esqr: With an Introductory Letter to the Right Honourable Earl Cowper, 4. kötet

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J. Seagrave, 1806

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179. oldal - That pitiless perforce, They left their outcast mate behind, And scudded still before the wind. Some succour yet they could afford ; And, such as storms allow, The cask, the coop, the floated cord, Delay'd not to bestow.
154. oldal - Twas my distress that brought thee low, My Mary ! Thy needles, once a shining store, For my sake restless heretofore, Now rust disused, and shine no more, My Mary...
156. oldal - And still to love, though prest with ill, In wintry age to feel no chill, With me is to be lovely still, My Mary ! But ah ! by constant heed I know How oft the sadness that I show Transforms thy smiles to looks of woe, My Mary ! And should my future lot be cast With much resemblance of the past, Thy worn-out heart will break at last — My Mary ! W.
180. oldal - Could catch the sound no more : For then, by toil subdued, he drank The stifling wave, and then he sank. No poet wept him : but the page Of narrative sincere, That tells his name, his worth, his age, Is wet with Anson's tear : And tears by bards or heroes shed Alike immortalize the dead. I therefore purpose not, or dream, Descanting on his fate, To give the melancholy theme A more enduring date: But misery still delights to trace Its semblance in another's case.
235. oldal - Are they not his by a peculiar right, And by an emphasis of interest his, Whose eye they fill with tears of holy joy, Whose heart with praise, and whose exalted mind With worthy thoughts of that unwearied love That plann'd, and built, and still upholds a world So clothed with beauty for rebellious man...
433. oldal - In regions mild of calm and serene air, Above the smoke and stir of this dim spot Which men call Earth, and, with low-thoughted care.
235. oldal - He looks abroad into the varied field Of nature, and, though poor perhaps compared With those whose mansions glitter in his sight, Calls the delightful scenery all his own.
179. oldal - Delay'd not to bestow : But he, they knew, nor ship nor shore, Whate'er they gave, should visit more.
178. oldal - Obscurest night involved the sky, The Atlantic billows roared, When such a destined wretch as I, Washed headlong from on board, Of friends, of hope, of all bereft, His floating home forever left.
178. oldal - His floating home for ever left. No braver chief could Albion boast Than he with whom he went, Nor ever ship left Albion's coast With warmer wishes sent.

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