Cowper: The task, with Tirocinium, and selections from the minor poems, A.D. 1784-1799 (2nd ed.)

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Henry Thomas Griffith
Clarendon Press, 1875
 

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Стр. 72 - Now stir the fire, and close the shutters fast, Let fall the curtains, wheel the sofa round, And while the bubbling and loud-hissing urn Throws up a steamy column, and the cups, That cheer but not inebriate, wait on each, So let us welcome peaceful evening in.
Стр. 25 - 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...
Стр. 272 - HIGH on a throne of royal state, which far Outshone the wealth of Ormus and of Ind, Or where the gorgeous East with richest hand Showers on her kings barbaric pearl and gold...
Стр. 200 - I see, The same that oft in childhood solaced me; Voice only fails, else how distinct they say, ' Grieve not, my child, chase all thy fears away!
Стр. 139 - One song employs all nations ; and all cry " Worthy the Lamb, for he was slain for us-! " The dwellers in the vales and on the rocks Shout to each other, and the mountain tops From distant mountains catch the flying joy ; Till, nation after nation taught the strain, Earth rolls the rapturous Hosanna round.
Стр. 201 - Dupe of to-morrow even from a child. Thus many a sad to-morrow came and went, Till all my stock of infant sorrow spent, I learned at last submission to my lot, But, though I less deplored thee, ne'er forgot. Where once we dwelt our name is heard no more, Children not thine have trod my nursery floor ; And where the gardener, Robin, day by day, Drew me to school along the public way, Delighted with my bauble coach, and wrapped In scarlet mantle warm, and velvet cap, 'Tis now become a history little...
Стр. 26 - I would not have a slave to till my ground, To carry me, to fan me while I sleep, And tremble when I wake, for all the wealth That sinews bought and sold have ever earned.
Стр. 202 - I seem to have lived my childhood o'er again ; To have renewed the joys that once were mine, Without the sin of violating thine : And, while the wings of Fancy still are free, And I can view this mimic show of thee, Time has but half succeeded in his theft — Thyself removed, thy power to soothe me left.
Стр. 202 - Where spices breathe, and brighter seasons smile, There sits quiescent on the floods, that show Her beauteous form reflected clear below, While airs impregnated with incense play Around her, fanning light her streamers gay, — So thou, with sails how swift ! hast reached the shore "Where tempests never beat, nor billows roar;" And thy loved consort on the dangerous tide Of life long since has anchored by thy side.
Стр. 233 - In the corrupted currents of this world, Offence's gilded hand may shove by justice; And oft 'tis seen, the wicked prize

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