Walker's Hibernian Magazine, Or, Compendium of Entertaining Knowledge

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R. Gibson, 1788
 

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14. oldal - Ye winds, that have made me your sport, Convey to this desolate shore Some cordial endearing report Of a land I shall visit no more. My friends, do they now and then send A wish or a thought after me ? O tell me I yet have a friend, Though a friend I am never to see.
14. oldal - How fleet is a glance of the mind ! Compared with the speed of its flight, The tempest itself lags behind, And the swift-winged arrows of light. When I think of my own native land, In a moment I seem to be there ; But alas ! recollection at hand Soon hurries me back to despair.
291. oldal - For him in vain his anxious wife shall wait, Or wander forth to meet him on his way; For him in vain, at to-fall of the day, His babes shall linger at. th' unclosing gate: Ah, ne'er shall he.
356. oldal - The business of the women is to take exact notice of what passes, imprint it in their memories, for they have no writing, and communicate it to their children. They are the records of the council, and they...
421. oldal - Find out the still, the rural cell Where sage retirement loves to dwell ! There let me taste the...
14. oldal - I must finish my journey alone, Never hear the sweet music of speech; I start at the sound of my own.
421. oldal - Observe how parts with parts unite In one harmonious rule of right ; See countless wheels distinctly tend By various laws to one great end : While mighty Alfred's piercing soul Pervades, and regulates the whole.
289. oldal - Fresh to that soil thou turn'st, whose every vale Shall prompt the poet, and his song demand: To thee thy copious subjects ne'er shall fail; Thou need'st but take the pencil to thy hand, And paint what all believe who own thy genial land.
357. oldal - Religion is founded, such as the Fall of our first Parents by Eating an Apple, the Coming of Christ to repair the Mischief, his Miracles and Suffering, &c. When he had finished, an Indian Orator stood up to thank him. What you have told us, says he, is all very good.
14. oldal - I AM monarch of all I survey, My right there is none to dispute, From the centre all round to the sea, I am lord of the fowl and the brute. Oh solitude ! where are the charms...

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