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Стр. 27 - Nature never did betray The heart that loved her; 'tis her privilege Through all the years of this our life, to lead From, joy to joy: for she can so inform The mind that is within us, so impress With quietness and beauty, and so feed With lofty thoughts, that neither evil tongues, Rash judgments, nor the sneers of selfish men, Nor greetings where no kindness is, nor all The dreary intercourse of daily life, Shall e'er prevail against us, or disturb Our cheerful faith that all which we behold Is...
Стр. 181 - The poetry of earth is never dead: When all the birds are faint with the hot Sun, And hide in cooling trees, a voice will run From hedge to hedge about the new-mown mead. That is the grasshopper's : he takes the lead In summer luxury — he has never done With his delights, for when tired out with fun, He rests at ease beneath some pleasant weed.
Стр. 273 - There is a pleasure in the pathless woods, There is a rapture on the lonely shore, There is society, where none intrudes, By the deep Sea, and music in its roar: I love not Man the less, but Nature more...
Стр. 150 - But to nobler sights Michael from Adam's eyes the film removed, Which that false fruit, that promised clearer sight. Had bred; then purged with euphrasy and rue The visual nerve, for he had much to see, And from the well of life three drops instill'd.
Стр. 196 - Let no presuming impious railer tax Creative wisdom, as if aught was form'd In vain, .or not for admirable ends. Shall little haughty ignorance pronounce His works unwise, of which the smallest part Exceeds the narrow vision of her mind ? As if upon a full-proportion'd dome, On swelling columns heav'd the pride of art!
Стр. 217 - BE kind to each other! The night's coming on, When friend and when brother Perchance may be gone ! Then midst our dejection, How sweet to have earned The blest recollection Of kindness — returned!
Стр. 314 - No, sir, had I been a sharper, had I been possessed of less good nature and native generosity, I might surely now have been in better circumstances.
Стр. 35 - tis a dull and endless strife: Come, hear the woodland linnet, How sweet his music! on my life, There's more of wisdom in it. And hark! how blithe the throstle sings! He, too, is no mean preacher: Come forth into the light of things, Let Nature be your Teacher.