The Pleasures of Memory, with Other PoemsThomas Bensley, 1801 - Всего страниц: 187 |
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Стр. 11
... hung , Oft has its roof with peals of rapture rung ; When round yon ample board , in due degree , We sweeten'd every meal with social glee . The heart's light laugh pursued the circling jest ; And all was sunshine in each little breast ...
... hung , Oft has its roof with peals of rapture rung ; When round yon ample board , in due degree , We sweeten'd every meal with social glee . The heart's light laugh pursued the circling jest ; And all was sunshine in each little breast ...
Стр. 25
... hung , Where once a PLATO taught , a PINDAR sung ; Who now but meets him musing , when he roves His ruin'd Tusculan's romantic groves ? In Rome's great forum , who but hears him roll His moral thunders o'er the subject soul ? And hence ...
... hung , Where once a PLATO taught , a PINDAR sung ; Who now but meets him musing , when he roves His ruin'd Tusculan's romantic groves ? In Rome's great forum , who but hears him roll His moral thunders o'er the subject soul ? And hence ...
Стр. 53
... hung with shaggy wood , And the cleft oak flung boldly o'er the flood . High on exulting wing the heath - cock rose , And blew his shrill blast o'er perennial snows ; When the rapt youth , recoiling from the roar , Gaz'd on the tumbling ...
... hung with shaggy wood , And the cleft oak flung boldly o'er the flood . High on exulting wing the heath - cock rose , And blew his shrill blast o'er perennial snows ; When the rapt youth , recoiling from the roar , Gaz'd on the tumbling ...
Стр. 55
... hung ; Till o'er the mead a cool , sequester'd grot From its rich roof a sparry lustre shot . A crystal water cross'd the pebbled floor , And on the front these simple lines it bore : Hence away , nor dare intrude ! In this secret ...
... hung ; Till o'er the mead a cool , sequester'd grot From its rich roof a sparry lustre shot . A crystal water cross'd the pebbled floor , And on the front these simple lines it bore : Hence away , nor dare intrude ! In this secret ...
Стр. 58
... . There slept the horn each jocund echo knew , And many a smile and many a story drew ! High o'er the hearth his forest - trophies hung , And their fantastic branches wildly flung . How would he dwell on each vast antler there ! 58.
... . There slept the horn each jocund echo knew , And many a smile and many a story drew ! High o'er the hearth his forest - trophies hung , And their fantastic branches wildly flung . How would he dwell on each vast antler there ! 58.
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adieu Æneid bee-hives bend bids blest blush BOILEAU breast breath'd breathe calm cell charm charm'd Chas'd Cicero clime clouds confest controul coursers delight dreams dusky echoes faded Fancy's feeling fled flings flows fond gale gaz'd gilds glows Gout grove hail hanging wood Hark heart Heath heav'n Hence Hist hues hung inspires light lisp live lov'd lustre magic Maximian melts mind mould Muse native NAVARRE night NOTE C. P. NOTE f o'er pensive PLEASURES OF MEMORY PLUT rapture resign'd rever'd rise round rude sacred scene seraphic shade shadowy shine sigh silent sleep smile soft song sooth soul sphere spirit spring steals Stothard stream sweet swell tears thee thine thou thought thro trac'd trace trembling triumphs truth Twas twilight vale Venice VESPASIAN VIRGIL's tomb Virtue wake wave weep wild wing youth
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Стр. 171 - MINE be a cot beside the hill, A bee-hive's hum shall soothe my ear , A willowy brook, that turns a mill, With many a fall, shall linger near. The swallow, oft, beneath my thatch Shall twitter from her clay-built nest ; Oft shall the pilgrim lift the latch, And share my meal, a welcome guest.
Стр. 30 - Tho' all, that knew him, know his face no more, His faithful dog shall tell his joy to each, With that mute eloquence which passes speech.— And see, the master but returns to die! Yet who shall bid the watchful servant fly ? The blasts of heaven, the drenching dews of earth, The wanton insults of unfeeling mirth, These, when to guard Misfortune's sacred grave, Will firm Fidelity exult to brave.
Стр. 157 - OH ! that the Chemist's magic art Could crystallize this sacred treasure ! Long should it glitter near my heart, A secret source of pensive pleasure. The little brilliant, ere it fell, Its lustre caught from CHLOE'S eye; Then, trembling, left its coral cell— The spring of Sensibility ! • • Sweet drop of pure and pearly light! In thee die rays of Virtue shine; More calmly clear, more mildly bright, Than any gem that gilds the mine.
Стр. 172 - MINE be a cot beside the hill; A bee-hive's hum shall soothe my ear; A willowy brook that turns a mill, With many a fall shall linger near. The swallow oft beneath my thatch Shall twitter from her clay-built nest ; Oft shall the pilgrim lift the latch, And share my meal, a welcome guest. Around my ivied porch shall spring Each fragrant flower that drinks the dew ; And Lucy at her wheel shall sing In russet gown and apron blue.
Стр. 167 - The ring-dove builds and murmurs there; Close by my cot she tells her tale To every passing villager : The squirrel leaps from tree to tree, And shells his nuts at liberty. In orange groves and myrtle bowers, That breathe a gale of fragrance round, I charm the fairy-footed hours With my loved lute's romantic sound ; Or crowns of living laurel weave, For those that win the race at eve. The shepherd's horn at break of day, The ballet...
Стр. 92 - ... the several degrees of angels may probably have larger views, and some of them be endowed with capacities able to retain together, and constantly set before them, as in one picture, all their past knowledge at once.
Стр. 66 - When thy last look, ere thought and feeling fled, A mingled gleam of hope and triumph shed ; What to thy soul its glad assurance gave, Its hope in death, its triumph o'er the grave ? The sweet Remembrance of unblemished youth, The still inspiring voice of Innocence and Truth...
Стр. 66 - Hail, MEMORY, hail ! in thy exhaustless mine From age to age unnumbered treasures shine ! Thought and her shadowy brood thy call obey, And Place and Time are subject to thy sway ! Thy pleasures most we feel, when most alone ; The only pleasures we can call our own.
Стр. 14 - Childhood's loved group revisits every scene, — The tangled wood-walk, and the tufted green. Indulgent MEMORY wakes, and, lo, they live, Clothed with far softer hues than Light can give.
Стр. 12 - Marked each pure thought, ere registered on high ; Still, still ye walk the consecrated ground, And breathe the soul of Inspiration round.