PoemsJohn Bumpus, 1818 - 420 pages |
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Page 8
... thou art fancy's nurse ; Lost without thee , th ' ennobling power of verse ; Heroic song from thy free touch acquires Its clearest tone , the rapture it inspires ; Place me where winter breathes his keenest air , And I will sing , if ...
... thou art fancy's nurse ; Lost without thee , th ' ennobling power of verse ; Heroic song from thy free touch acquires Its clearest tone , the rapture it inspires ; Place me where winter breathes his keenest air , And I will sing , if ...
Page 10
... thou art a devoted deer , Beset with every ill but that of fear . Thee nations hunt ; all mark thee for a prey ; They swarm around thee , and thou standest at bay . Undaunted still , though wearied and perplexed , Once Chatham saved ...
... thou art a devoted deer , Beset with every ill but that of fear . Thee nations hunt ; all mark thee for a prey ; They swarm around thee , and thou standest at bay . Undaunted still , though wearied and perplexed , Once Chatham saved ...
Page 28
... Thou polished and high - finished foe to truth , Gray - beard corrupter of our listening youth , To purge and skim away the filth of vice , That so refined it might the more entice , Then pour it on the morals of thy son ; To taint his ...
... Thou polished and high - finished foe to truth , Gray - beard corrupter of our listening youth , To purge and skim away the filth of vice , That so refined it might the more entice , Then pour it on the morals of thy son ; To taint his ...
Page 31
... Thou god of our idolatry , the press ? By thee religion , liberty , and laws , Exert their influence , and advance their cause ; By thee worse plagues than Pharaoh's land befel , Diffused , make earth the vestibule of hell ; Thou ...
... Thou god of our idolatry , the press ? By thee religion , liberty , and laws , Exert their influence , and advance their cause ; By thee worse plagues than Pharaoh's land befel , Diffused , make earth the vestibule of hell ; Thou ...
Page 47
... thou yon harlot wooing all she meets , The worn - out nuisance of the public streets , Herself from morn to night , from night to morn , Her own abhorrence , and as much your scorn ; The gracious shower , unlimited and free , Shall fall ...
... thou yon harlot wooing all she meets , The worn - out nuisance of the public streets , Herself from morn to night , from night to morn , Her own abhorrence , and as much your scorn ; The gracious shower , unlimited and free , Shall fall ...
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Common terms and phrases
Aspasio beneath bids blest boast breath cause charms dæmons deem delight distant divine docet dream e'en earth ease eyes fair fame fancy fear feel fire flower folly frown give glory grace hand happy hast heard heart heaven honour hope hour human John Gilpin labour land light live lyre mankind mercy mind muse nature Nebaioth never night nymphs o'er once Parnassian peace perhaps pine-apples pity pleasure poet poet's praise pride prize proud prove rapture rest rude sacred scene scorn seems shade shine sighs sight skies slave smile song soon soul sound spleen stream sweet taste telescopic eye thee their's theme thine thou art thought toil tongue trembling trifler truth Twas VINCENT BOURNE Virg virtue waste Weston Underwood WILLIAM BULL WILLIAM COWPER wind wisdom wonder worth youth
Popular passages
Page 328 - I would not enter on my list of friends (Though graced with polished manners and fine sense Yet wanting sensibility) the man Who needlessly sets foot upon a worm.
Page 387 - I learned at last submission to my lot, But, though I less deplored thee, ne'er forgot. Where once we dwelt, our name is heard no more, Children not thine have trod my nursery floor...
Page 150 - 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. But the sea-fowl is gone to her nest, The beast is laid down in his lair, Even here is a season of rest, And I to my cabin repair. There's mercy in every place, And mercy, encouraging thought ! Gives even affliction a grace,...
Page 387 - All this, and more endearing still than all, Thy constant flow of love, that knew no fall, Ne'er roughened by those cataracts and breaks That humour interposed too often makes; All this still legible in memory's page, And still to be so to my latest age, Adds joy to duty, makes me glad to pay Such honours to thee as my numbers may; Perhaps a frail memorial, but sincere, Not scorned in heaven, though little noticed here.
Page 387 - Tis now become a history little known, That once we called the pastoral house our own. Short-lived possession ! but the record fair, That memory keeps of all thy kindness there, Still outlives many a storm, that has effaced A thousand other themes less deeply traced.
Page 317 - Knowledge dwells In heads replete with thoughts of other men, Wisdom in minds attentive to their own. Knowledge, a rude unprofitable mass, The mere materials with which wisdom builds, Till smoothed and squared and fitted to its place, Does but encumber whom it seems to enrich.
Page 43 - Just knows, and knows no more, her Bible true A. truth the brilliant Frenchman never knew ; And in that charter reads with sparkling eyes Her title to a treasure in the skies.
Page 388 - Shoots into port at some well-havened isle, Where spices breathe and brighter seasons smile, There sits quiescent on the floods, that show Her beauteous form reflected clear below, While airs impregnated with incense play Around her, fanning light her streamers gay; So thou, with sails how swift! hast reached the shore ' Where tempests never beat nor billows roar;' And thy loved consort on the dangerous tide Of life, long since has anchored at thy side.
Page 384 - WHEN the British warrior queen, Bleeding from the Roman rods, Sought, with' an indignant mien, Counsel of her country's gods, Sage beneath the spreading oak Sat the Druid, hoary chief; Every burning word he spoke Full of rage and full of grief.
Page 196 - Were shattered at a blow. Down ran the wine into the road, Most piteous to be seen, Which made his horse's flanks to smoke As they had basted been. But still he seemed to carry weight, With leathern girdle braced; For all might see the bottle-necks Still dangling at his waist.