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arms beauty bloom boaſt breaſt bring charms dear death delight divine earth eyes face fair fame Fancy fate fear feel field fire firſt flow gave gentle give grace grove grow hand head hear heart heav'n hills hope hour kind land laſt late leave light live look maid mind Muſe muſt native nature Nature's never night o'er O’er once pain peace plain play pleaſing pleaſure pow'r praiſe pride purſue race rage riſe roſe round rule rural ſay ſcene ſee ſeen ſenſe ſhade ſhall ſhe ſhine ſhould ſkies ſmile ſoft ſome ſoul ſpread ſpring ſtill ſtream ſuch ſweet tell thee theſe thoſe thou thought toil train truth various virtue whoſe wind wing youth
Стр. 267 - gainst a post; Yet round the world the blade has been, To see whatever could be seen.
Стр. 269 - Twere no great loss," the friend replies; "For if they always serve you thus, You'll find them but of little use." So high at last the contest rose, From words they almost came to blows: When luckily came by a third; To him the question they referred; And begged he'd tell them, if he knew, Whether the thing was green or blue. "Sirs," cries the umpire, "cease your pother, The creature's neither one nor t'other.
Стр. 24 - ' 'Tis Strephon, on the mountain's brow, Has won my right good will; To him I gave my plighted vow, With him I'll climb the hill.
Стр. 49 - The river gliding down the dale ! The hill with beeches crown'd ! But now, when urg'd by tender woes I fpeed to meet my dear, That hill and ftream my zeal oppofe, And check my fond career.
Стр. 372 - The bright- hair'd fun with warmth benign Bids tree, and fhrub, and fwelling vine Their infant-buds difplay : Again the ftreams refrefh the plains, "Which Winter bound in icy chains, And fparkling blefs his ray. : V. Life-giving Zephyrs breathe around, And inftant glows th...
Стр. 270 - My children," the chameleon cries, (Then first the creature found a tongue), "You all are right, and all are wrong: When next you talk of what you view, Think others see as well as you: Nor wonder, if you find that none Prefers your eyesight to his own.
Стр. 193 - ADIEU awhile, forsaken flood, To ramble in the Delian wood, And pray the god my well-meant song May not my subject's merit wrong. Say, father Thames, whose gentle pace Gives leave to view what beauties grace Your flow'ry banks, if you have seen The much-sung Grotto of the queen.
Стр. 171 - tis pale, 'tis cold — Hence dreadful fpectre ! to behold Thy afpe£l, is to make it mine. And can I then with guilty pride, Which fear nor...