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ages amid bank beam beauty beneath beſt bloom breaſt breathes breeze circling clouds comes dark death deep delight deſcends dreadful earth fair fall fancy fate fear feels fields fierce firſt fits flame flood force give gloom grace grove hand happy head heard heart heaven Hence hills human kind land laſt light lively look mind mingled morn mountains Muſe Nature Nature's night o'er o’er once paſſions peace plain pride pure race rage riſe river rocks roll round rural ſcene ſee ſhade ſhe ſhining ſky ſmile ſnow ſoft ſome ſong ſoul ſpreads Spring ſtill ſtorm ſtream ſuch ſun ſwelling thee theſe thoſe thou thought thouſand thro till toil train turn vale various virtue voice walk wander waſte wave whole whoſe wide wild winds wing Winter woods youth
Side 234 - ... they dance along, How many feel, this very moment, death And all the sad variety of pain. How many sink in the devouring flood, Or more devouring flame.
Side 232 - Of horrid prospect, shag the trackless plain: Nor finds the river, nor the forest, hid Beneath the formless wild; but wanders on From hill to dale, still more and more astray; Impatient flouncing through the drifted heaps, Stung with the thoughts of home; the thoughts of home Rush on his nerves, and call their vigour forth In many a vain attempt.
Side 230 - Father of light and life, thou Good Supreme ! O teach me what is good ; teach me Thyself! Save me from folly, vanity, and vice, From every low pursuit; and feed my soul With knowledge, conscious peace, and virtue pure; Sacred, substantial, never-fading bliss...
Side 41 - Sits on the horizon round a settled gloom : Not such as wintry storms on mortals shed, Oppressing life ; but lovely, gentle, kind, And full of every hope and every joy, The wish of nature.
Side 259 - Who, here entangled in the gathering ice, Take their last look of the descending sun; While, full of death, and fierce with tenfold frost, The long long night, incumbent o'er their heads, Falls horrible. Such was the Briton's * fate, As with first prow (what have not Britons dared!) He for the passage sought, attempted since So much in vain, and seeming to be shut By jealous Nature with eternal bars.
Side 172 - Acasto's line ; and to my mind Recalls that patron of my happy life, From whom my liberal fortune took its rise; Now to the dust gone down ; his houses, lands, And once fair-spreading family, dissolved.
Side 81 - Delightful task! to rear the tender thought, To teach the young idea how to shoot...
Side 100 - Urg'd to the giddy brink, much is the toil, The clamour much, of men, and boys, and dogs, Ere the soft fearful people to the flood Commit their woolly sides.