Amalthea arms Bards Behold beneath bids bleft blissful bands bofom breaſt Britiſh caufe cauſe CERINTHUS charms Corycian Damon defire Delia delight divine doft Dryads Ev'n eyes facred faid fair fame fate fatire fcene fecret fhade fhall fhame filent fing fire firft firſt flame flave flowers fmiles focial foft folemn fome fong fons foon foul fpirit fprings freedom ftands ftate ftill ftrain ftreams fuch fweet glory grove hand hath heart heaven himſelf honour hour infpire Latium loft LXIV lyre maid Margaret of Anjou mind moſt Mufe Muſe muſt Naiads nobler Nymphs o'er paffions pain Pentheus Petrarch Pindar pleafing pleaſe pleaſure praiſe pride rais'd raiſe reafon reft rifing ſcene ſhade ſhall ſhame ſhe ſhore ſhould ſhrine ſky ſpeaks ſpread ſtate ſtill ſway tender Tethys thee thefe theſe thofe thoſe thou toils treaſure virtue whofe whoſe Wiſdom wiſh youth
Page 186 - To Contemplation's sober eye Such is the race of Man: And they that creep, and they that fly, Shall end where they began.
Page 198 - Oft did the harvest to their sickle yield, Their furrow oft the stubborn glebe has broke : How jocund did they drive their team afield ! How bow'd the woods beneath their sturdy stroke...
Page 204 - Awake, /Eolian lyre, awake, And give to rapture all thy trembling strings. From Helicon's harmonious springs A thousand rills their mazy progress take ; The laughing flowers, that round them blow, Drink life and fragrance as they flow. Now the rich stream of music winds along, Deep, majestic, smooth, and strong, Through verdant vales, and Ceres...
Page 200 - There at the foot of yonder nodding beech That wreathes its old fantastic roots so high, His listless length at noontide would he stretch, And pore upon the brook that babbles by.
Page 201 - One morn I missed him on the customed hill, Along the heath and near his favourite tree; Another came; nor yet beside the rill, Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood was he; 'The next with dirges due in sad array Slow through the church-way path we saw him borne. Approach and read (for thou can'st read) the lay, Graved on the stone beneath yon aged thorn.
Page 197 - THE curfew tolls the knell of parting day, The lowing herd wind slowly o'er the lea, The plowman homeward plods his weary way, And leaves the world to darkness and to me. Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight, And all the air a solemn stillness holds, Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight, And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds...
Page 201 - Here rests his head upon the lap of earth A youth, to fortune and to fame unknown: Fair science frown'd not on his humble birth, And melancholy mark'd him for her own. Large was his bounty, and his soul sincere...
Page 197 - Beneath those rugged elms, that yew-tree's shade Where heaves the turf in many a mouldering heap, Each in his narrow cell for ever laid, The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep.
Page 197 - Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight, And all the air a solemn stillness holds, Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight, And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds : Save that, from yonder ivy-mantled tower, The moping owl does to the Moon complain Of such as, wandering near her secret bower, Molest her ancient solitary reign.