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amid beam beauty beneath bloom breast breath breeze bright calm circling clouds comes dark death deep delight earth ether fair fall fancy fear fields fire flame flocks flood force forest gale gentle give gloom grace grove hand happy head heart Heaven hills human kind land light lively look lost Love mind mingled morning mountains Muse Nature Nature's never night o'er once passions peace plain pleasing pride pure race rage raise rise rocks roll round rural scene Season sense shade shining silent sleep smile snow soft song sons soul sounding spirit spread Spring storm stream sweet swelling tender thee thou thought thousand till toil train turn vale various virtue walks wandering waste wave whole wide wild winds wing Winter woods youth
Page 262 - 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 221 - Ye softer floods, that lead the humid maze Along the vale : and thou, majestic main, A secret world of wonders in thyself, Sound His stupendous praise ; whose greater voice Or bids you roar, or bids your roarings fall. Soft roll your incense, herbs, and fruits, and flowers, In mingled clouds to Him ; whose sun exalts, Whose breath perfumes you, and whose pencil paints.
Page 221 - Ye constellations, while your angels strike, Amid the spangled sky, the silver lyre. Great source of day! best image here below Of thy Creator, ever pouring wide, From world to world, the vital ocean round, On Nature write with every beam His praise. The Thunder rolls : be hush'd the prostrate world , While cloud to cloud returns the solemn hymn.
Page 223 - I cannot go Where universal love not smiles around, Sustaining all yon orbs, and all their suns; From seeming evil still educing good, And better thence again, and better still, In infinite progression.
Page 219 - THESE, as they change, Almighty Father, these, Are but the varied God. The rolling year Is full of Thee. Forth in the pleasing Spring Thy beauty walks, Thy tenderness and love. Wide flush the fields ; the softening air is balm ; Echo the mountains round ; the forest smiles ; And every sense, and every heart, is joy.
Page 193 - Of these, and all the thousand nameless ills, That one incessant struggle render life, One scene of toil, of suffering, and of fate, Vice in his high career would stand appall'd, And heedless rambling Impulse learn to think; The conscious heart of Charity would warm, And her wide wish Benevolence dilate; The social tear would rise, the social sigh; And into clear perfection, gradual bliss, Refining still, the social passions work.
Page 109 - Heavens ! what a goodly prospect spreads around, Of hills, and dales, and woods, and lawns, and spires, And glittering towns and gilded streams till all | The stretching landscape into smoke decays...
Page 219 - Shoots full perfection through the swelling year: And oft Thy voice in dreadful thunder speaks : And oft at dawn, deep noon, or falling eve, By brooks and groves, in hollow-whispering gales Thy bounty shines in Autumn unconfined, And spreads a common feast for all that lives. In Winter awful Thou ! with clouds and storms Around Thee thrown, tempest o'er tempest roll'd, Majestic darkness ! on the whirlwind's wing, Riding sublime, Thou bidst the world adore, And humblest Nature with thy northern blast.
Page 232 - While o'er th' enfeebling lute his hand he flung, And to the trembling chords these tempting verses sung : 'Behold, ye pilgrims of this earth, behold! See all but man with unearned pleasure gay ! See her bright robes the butterfly unfold, Broke from her wintry tomb in prime of May. What youthful bride can equal her array? Who can with her for easy pleasure vie? From mead to mead with gentle wing to stray, From flower to flower on balmy gales to fly, Is all she has to do beneath the radiant sky.
Page 21 - E'er plow'd for him. They too are temper'd high, With hunger stung and wild necessity, Nor lodges pity in their shaggy breast. But Man, whom Nature form'd of milder clay, With every kind emotion in his heart, And taught alone to weep; while from her lap She pours ten thousand delicacies, herbs, And fruits, as numerous as the drops of rain Or beams that gave them birth; shall he, fair form! Who wears sweet smiles, and looks erect on heaven, E'er stoop to mingle with the prowling herd...