The English Reader: Or, Pieces in Prose and Verses; Selected from the Best Writers

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W. Williams, 1830 - 252 páginas
 

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Página 244 - Should fate command me to the farthest verge Of the green earth, to distant barbarous climes, Rivers unknown to song ; where first the sun Gilds Indian mountains, or his setting beam Flames on th...
Página 224 - And nightly to the list'ning earth Repeats the story of her birth : Whilst all the stars that round her burn, And all the planets in their turn, Confirm the tidings as they roll, And spread the truth from pole to pole.
Página 218 - Thus wondrous fair: thyself how wondrous then! Unspeakable ! who sitt'st above these heavens To us invisible, or dimly seen In these thy lowest works; yet these declare Thy goodness beyond thought, and power divine. Speak, ye who best can tell, ye Sons of Light, Angels — for ye behold him, and with songs And choral symphonies, day without night, Circle his throne rejoicing — ye in heaven; On earth join, all ye creatures, to extol Him first, him last, him midst, and without end.
Página 199 - OH for a lodge in some vast wilderness, Some boundless contiguity of shade, Where rumour of oppression and deceit, Of unsuccessful or successful war, Might never reach me more.
Página 216 - In vain for him th' officious wife prepares The fire fair-blazing and the vestment warm; In vain his little children, peeping out Into the mingling storm, demand their sire, With tears of artless innocence. Alas ! Nor wife, nor children, more shall he behold, Nor friends, nor sacred home.
Página 218 - Join voices all ye living Souls: Ye Birds, That singing up to Heaven-gate ascend, Bear on your wings and in your notes his praise. Ye that in waters glide, and ye that walk The earth, and stately tread, or lowly creep; Witness if I be silent, morn or even, To hill, or valley, fountain or fresh shade, Made vocal by my song, and taught his praise. Hail universal Lord, be bounteous still To give us only good ; and if the night Have gather'd aught of evil, or conceal'd, Disperse it, as now light dispels...
Página 214 - Ye winds that have made me your sport, Convey to this desolate shore Some cordial endearing report Of a land I shall visit no more. My friends, do they now and then send A wish or a thought after me? O tell me I yet have a friend, Though a friend I am never to see.
Página 213 - I AM monarch of all I survey, My right there is none to dispute ; From the centre all round to the sea I am lord of the fowl and the brute.
Página 179 - The sound must seem an echo to the sense : Soft is the strain when Zephyr gently blows, And the smooth stream in smoother numbers flows ; But when loud surges lash the sounding shore, The hoarse, rough verse should like the torrent roar : When Ajax strives some rock's vast weight to throw, The line too labours, and the words move slow ; Not so, when swift Camilla scours the plain, Flies o'er th' unbending corn, and skims along the main.
Página 229 - Hope humbly then ; with trembling pinions soar ; Wait the great teacher death, and God adore. What future bliss, he gives not thee to know, But gives that hope to be thy blessing now. Hope springs eternal in the human breast : Man never is, but always to be blest.

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