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æther Alps beneath birds blessings bloom bosom breast breath breeze bright bursts busy busy Bee cheerful clouds cold courser crown'd delight dewy distant DRYDEN DRYDEN'S VIRGIL earth Ev'n ev'ry eyes father William flocks flood flower fragrant gale glory golden GRAMPUS green ground groves hare Hare and Tortoise heart Heaven hills Hippopotamus horns huntsman hyæna kiss of love lark light limbs lonely marmot mead mighty heart morn mountains murmur night o'er Orphan Boy painted banks pass'd Piedmontese pine-apples plain POPE'S HOMER pride Propontis rage rise roar rocks roll rubies rich sails shade shepherd shining shore shower silver pheasant sings skies sleep smiling snow song sound spread spring storms stream swain sweet swell tawny eagle tear tempest thee thou busy busy thro thrush tide toil torrent tortoise trees trembling vale vernal WAR HORSE warbling wave wide winds wings Winter woods young youth
Page 18 - HAPPY the man, whose wish and care A few paternal acres bound, Content to breathe his native air In his own ground. Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread, Whose flocks supply him with attire ; Whose trees in summer yield him shade, In winter fire.
Page 67 - See the wretch that long has tost On the thorny bed of pain, At length repair his vigour lost, And breathe and walk again ; The meanest floweret of the vale, The simplest note that swells the gale, The common sun, the air, the skies, To him are opening paradise.
Page 104 - The glories of our blood and state Are shadows, not substantial things ; There is no armour against fate ; Death lays his icy hand on kings : Sceptre and crown Must tumble down, And in the dust be equal made With the poor crooked scythe and spade.
Page 4 - O tell your poor blind boy ! You talk of wondrous things you see, You say the sun shines bright ; I feel him warm, but how can he Or make it day or night ? My day or night myself I make Whene'er I sleep or play ; And could I ever keep awake With me 'twere always day. With heavy sighs I often hear You mourn my hapless woe ; But sure with patience I can bear A loss I ne'er can know.
Page 55 - Sad was the hour, and luckless was the day, When first from Schiraz
Page 31 - I care not, fortune, what you me deny ; You cannot rob me of free nature's grace ; You cannot shut the windows of the sky, Through which Aurora shows her brightening face, You cannot bar my constant feet to trace The woods and lawns, by living stream, at eve : Let health my nerves and finer fibres brace, And I their toys to the great children leave : Of fancy, reason, virtue, nought can me bereave.
Page 144 - No tree in all the grove but has its charms, Though each its hue peculiar...
Page 102 - What stronger breastplate than a heart untainted ! Thrice is he arm'd that hath his quarrel just ; And he but naked, though lock'd up in steel, Whose conscience with injustice is corrupted.
Page 48 - While from the bounded level of our mind Short views we take, nor see the lengths behind ; But more...