The British poetical miscellanySikes & Company, 1805 |
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Common terms and phrases
anguiſh beneath beſtow black crows blaſt bleſs bleſs'd bleſt boſom breaſt breath BRITISH POETICAL MISCELLANY CHARLOTTE SMITH charms cloſe cold cry'd dear death deſpair diſtant dy'd E'en eaſe ev'ry eyes faid fair fate fear figh filent firſt fleep flow'r fome fons foon foothe forrow foul grave grief hand heart Heav'n hour laſt life's loft loſe lov'd maid moſt mourn muſe muſt ne'er o'er paſt peace PINDAR pity pleaſing pleaſure poor pow'r repoſe reſt riſe roſe ſad Sally Green ſay ſcene ſcorn ſeek ſeen ſenſe ſhade ſhall ſhare ſhe ſhed ſhore ſhould ſkies ſky ſmile ſnow ſoft ſome ſpeak ſpirit ſports ſpot ſpread ſpring ſtand ſtart ſtate ſteps ſtill ſtorm ſtranger ſtray ſtream ſtrong ſuch ſure ſweet tear tender thee theſe thine thoſe thou toil trembling Twas vale waſte weeping whoſe wild wind wiſh youth
Popular passages
Page 4 - One morn I missed him on the customed hill, Along the heath and near his favourite tree; Another came; nor yet beside the rill, Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood was he; 'The next with dirges due in sad array Slow through the church-way path we saw him borne. Approach and read (for thou can'st read) the lay, Graved on the stone beneath yon aged thorn.
Page 4 - Here rests his head upon the lap of earth A youth, to fortune and to fame unknown: Fair science frown'd not on his humble birth, And melancholy mark'd him for her own. Large was his bounty, and his soul sincere...
Page 6 - How sleep the brave, who sink to rest, By all their country's wishes blest ! When Spring, with dewy fingers cold, Returns to deck their hallowed mould, She there shall dress a sweeter sod Than Fancy's feet have ever trod. By fairy hands their knell is rung ; By forms unseen their dirge is sung : There Honour comes, a pilgrim gray, To bless the turf that wraps their clay ; And Freedom shall awhile repair, To dwell a weeping hermit there ! TO MERCY.
Page 1 - The breezy call of incense-breathing morn, The swallow twittering from the straw-built shed, The cock's shrill clarion, or the echoing horn, No more shall rouse them from their lowly bed. For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn, Or busy housewife ply her evening care; No children run to lisp their sire's return, Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share.
Page 2 - Nor Grandeur hear with a disdainful smile The short and simple annals of the Poor. The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power, And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave Await alike th' inevitable hour : — The paths of glory lead but to the grave.
Page 7 - How lov'd , how honour'd once , avails thee not, To whom related, or by whom begot; A heap of dust alone remains of thee, 'Tis all thou art, and all the proud shall be!
Page 1 - Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight, And all the air a solemn stillness holds, Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight, And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds...
Page 6 - What though no friends in sable weeds appear, Grieve for an hour, perhaps, then mourn a year, And bear about the mockery of woe To midnight dances, and the public show?
Page 1 - Why did all-creating Nature Make the plant for which we toil ? Sighs must fan it, tears must water, Sweat of ours must dress the soil. Think, ye masters iron-hearted, Lolling at your jovial boards ; Think how many backs have smarted For the sweets your cane affords.