The Poetical Register, and Repository of Fugitive Poetry for 1801-11, Том 4

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F.C. & J. Rivington, 1806

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Стр. 234 - Our song and feast shall flow To the fame of your name, When the storm has ceased to blow; When the fiery fight is heard no more, And the storm has ceased to blow.
Стр. 252 - Go — you may call it madness, folly ; You shall not chase my gloom away. There's such a charm in melancholy, I would not, if I could, be gay.
Стр. 396 - YE, who with warmth the public triumph feel Of talents dignified by sacred zeal, Here, to devotion's bard devoutly just, Pay your fond tribute due to Cowper's dust ! England, exulting in his spotless fame, Ranks with her dearest sons his favourite name.
Стр. 456 - Nor my thread wish to spin o'er again : But my face in the glass I'll serenely survey, And with smiles count each wrinkle and furrow ; As this old worn-out stuff, which is threadbare Today, May become Everlasting Tomorrow.
Стр. 233 - The spirits of your fathers Shall start from every wave — For the deck it was their field of fame, And Ocean was their grave: Where Blake and mighty Nelson fell Your manly hearts shall glow, As ye sweep through the deep, While the stormy winds do blow; While the battle rages loud and long And the stormy winds do blow.
Стр. 234 - Her home is on the deep. With thunders from her native oak She quells the floods below, As they roar on the shore, When the stormy winds do blow; When the battle rages loud and long, And the stormy winds do blow.
Стр. 455 - Look forward with hope for to-morrow. With a porch at my door, both for shelter and shade too. As the sun-shine or rain may prevail; And a small spot of ground for the use of the spade too, With a barn for the use of the flail...
Стр. 233 - YE Mariners of England That guard our native seas, Whose flag has braved, a thousand years, The battle and the breeze — Your glorious standard launch again To match another foe ! And sweep through the deep, While the stormy winds do blow, — While the battle rages loud and long, And the stormy winds do blow.
Стр. 456 - I share what today may afford, And let them spread the table to-morrow. And when I at last must throw off this frail...
Стр. 128 - has been so much accustomed of late to didactic poetry alone, and essays on moral subjects, that any work, where the imagination is much indulged, will perhaps not be relished or regarded.

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