Poems, Volumen1

W. Blanchard, 1796

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Página 60 - Go wiser ye, that flutter life away, Crown with the mantling juice the goblet high; Weave the light dance, with festive freedom gay, And live your moment, since the next ye die. Yet know, vain sceptics, know, th...
Página 8 - Thrice hail, thou heav'n-taught warbler ! last and best " Of all the train ! Poet, in whom conjoin'd " All that to ear, or heart, or head, could yield " Rapture ; harmonious, manly, clear, sublime.
Página 63 - E'en from the grave thou shalt have power to charm. Bid them be chaste, be innocent, like thee; Bid them in duty's sphere as meekly move; And if so fair, from vanity as free, As firm in friendship, and as fond in love, — Tell them...
Página 75 - How nobly does this venerable wood, Gilt with the glories of the orient sun, Embosom yon fair mansion ! The soft air Salutes me with most cool and temp'rate breath ; And, as I tread, the flow'r-besprinkled lawn Sends up a gale, of fragrance. I should guess, If e'er Content deign'd visit mortal clime, This was her place of dearest residence.
Página 43 - Breathe from his artless reed one parting lay; A lay like this thy early Virtues claim, And this let voluntary Friendship pay.
Página 204 - tis thus. CHORUS. We trust thou do'st not. CARACTACUS. Masters of Wisdom ! No : my soul confides In that all-healing and all-forming Power, Who on the radiant day when Time was born, Cast his broad eye upon the wild of ocean, And calm'd it with a glance : then plunging deep His mighty arm, pluck'd from its dark domain...
Página 58 - And menac'd oft, and oft withheld the blow : To give Reflection time, with lenient art, Each fond...
Página 223 - That on my soul doth lie some secret grief These looks perforce will tell : It is not fear, Druids, it is not fear that shakes me thus ; The great gods know it is not : Ye can never : For, what...
Página 123 - Here deign to take his hallow'd stand ; Here wave his amber locks ; unfold His pinions cloth'd with downy gold ; Here smiling stretch his tutelary wand ? And you, ye host of Saints, for ye have known Each dreary path in Life's perplexing maze, Tho...
Página 107 - ATHELWOLD. I know, ELFRIDA, Could love absolve the crime, my soul were pure As maiden innocence. Yes, I do love thee, And thou art fair — beyond — But that's my bane ; Thy ev'ry charm adds weight to my offence, And heaps fresh wrongs upon the best of masters. \ Yes, ELFRID, EDGAR was the best of masters.

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