The Works of Robert Bloomfield

Portada
Routledge, Warne, & Routledge, 1864 - 369 páginas
 

Otras ediciones - Ver todas

Términos y frases comunes

Pasajes populares

Página 341 - Love had he found in huts where poor men lie; His daily teachers had been woods and rills, The silence that is in the starry sky, The sleep that is among the lonely hills.
Página 156 - Particular manners can be known to few, and therefore few only can judge how nearly they are copied.
Página 19 - And strew'd with corn to crown the rising year ; And o'er the whole GILES once transverse again, In earth's moist bosom buries up the grain. The work is done ; no more to man is given ; The grateful Farmer trusts the rest to Heaven. Yet oft with anxious heart he looks around, And marks the first green blade that breaks the ground...
Página 22 - Of Nature's music, from a thousand throats : The Blackbird strove with emulation sweet, And Echo answer'd from her close retreat; The sporting White-throat on some twig's end borne, Pour'd hymns to freedom and the rising morn ; Stopt in her song perchance the starting Thrush Shook a white shower from the black-thorn bush, Where dew-drops thick as early blossoms hung, And trembled as the minstrel sweetly sung.
Página 31 - No rake takes here what Heaven to all bestows — Children of want, for you the bounty flows ! And every cottage from the plenteous store Receives a burden nightly at its door.
Página 122 - ... streaming sand, And seen the growing mountain rise, And often found life's hopes to stand On props as weak in wisdom's eyes : Its conic crown Still sliding down, Again heap'd up, then down again ; The sand above more hollow grew, Like days and years still filt'ring through, And mingling joy and pain.
Página 25 - And, like the oaken shelf whereon 'tis laid, Mocks the weak efforts of the bending blade ; Or in the hog-trough rests in perfect spite, Too big to swallow, and too hard to bite. Inglorious victory ! Ye Cheshire meads, Or Severn's flow'ry dales, where Plenty treads, Was your rich milk to suffer wrongs like these, Farewell your pride ! farewell renowned cheese ! The skimmer dread, whose ravages alone Thus turn the meads
Página 42 - Thou, who bidst the vernal juices rise! Thou, on whose blasts autumnal foliage flies ! Let Peace ne'er leave me, nor my heart grow cold, Whilst Life and Sanity are mine to hold.
Página 26 - Ye who can smile, to wisdom no disgrace, At the arch meaning of a kitten's face : If spotless innocence, and infant mirth, Excites to praise, or gives reflection birth, In shades like these pursue your fav'rite joy, ' Midst Nature's revels, sports that never cloy.
Página 17 - No Alpine wonders thunder through my verse, The roaring cataract, the snow-topt hill, Inspiring awe, till breath itself stands still : Nature's sublimer scenes ne'er charm'd mine eyes...

Información bibliográfica