The Borough: A Poem, in Twenty-four Letters

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J. Hatchard, 1816 - 292 pages

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Page 151 - There are a sort of men whose visages Do cream and mantle like a standing pond...
Page 22 - But she has treasured, and she loves them all ; When in her way she meets them, they appear Peculiar people — death has made them dear. He named his friend, but then his hand she prest, And fondly whisper'd, " Thou must go to rest ;"
Page 277 - Though mangled, hack'd, and hew'd, not yet destroy'd ; The little ones, unbutton'd, glowing hot, Playing our games, and on the very spot ; As happy as we once, to kneel and draw The chalky ring, and knuckle down at taw...
Page 9 - Far off the Petrel in the troubled way Swims with her Brood, or flutters in the Spray ; She rises often, often drops again, And sports at ease on the tempestuous Main.
Page 275 - The ocean smiling to the fervid sun — The waves that faintly fall and slowly run — The ships at distance and the boats at hand ; And now they walk upon the sea-side sand, Counting the number and what kind they be, Ships softly sinking in the sleepy sea...
Page 276 - The timid girls, half dreading their design, Dip the small foot in the retarded brine, And search for crimson weeds, which spreading flow., Or lie like pictures on the sand below ; With all those bright red pebbles, that the sun Through the small waves so softly shines upon...
Page 290 - Books cannot always please, however good: ; Minds are not ever craving for their food ; But sleep will soon the weary soul prepare For cares to-morrow that were this day's care : For forms, for feasts, that sundry times have past, And formal feasts that will for ever last.
Page 254 - Who, undisturb'd by feelings just or kind, Would parish-boys to needy tradesmen bind; They in their want a trifling sum would take, And toiling slaves of piteous orphans make.
Page 55 - Be brave then ; for your captain is brave, and vows reformation. There shall be in England seven halfpenny loaves sold for a penny ; the three-hooped pot shall have ten hoops ; and I will make it felony to drink small beer.
Page 10 - Darkness begins to reign; the louder wind Appals the weak and awes the firmer mind; But frights not him, whom evening and the spray In part conceal — yon prowler on his way. Lo ! he has something seen ; he runs apace, As if he fear'd companion in the chase; He sees his prize, and now he turns again, Slowly and sorrowing — ' Was your search in vain ? ' Gruffly he answers, ' 'Tis a sorry sight ! 'A seaman's body; there'll be more to-night!

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