Poems, Том 2

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Стр. 198 - 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. 277 - Thy nightly visits to my chamber made, That thou mightst know me safe and warmly laid ; Thy morning bounties ere I left my home, The biscuit, or confectionary plum...
Стр. 105 - Than those of age, thy forehead wrapp'd in clouds, A leafless branch thy sceptre, and thy throne A sliding car, indebted to no wheels, But urged by storms along its slippery way, I love thee, all unlovely as thou seem'st, And dreaded as thou art...
Стр. 34 - 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 earn'd.
Стр. 48 - I would express him simple, grave, sincere ; In doctrine uncorrupt ; in language plain ; And plain in manner. Decent, solemn, chaste, And natural in gesture. Much impressed Himself, as conscious of his awful charge, And anxious mainly that the flock he feeds May feel it too. Affectionate in look, And tender in address, as well becomes A messenger of grace to guilty men.
Стр. 33 - There is no flesh in man's obdurate heart. It does not feel for man; the nat'ral bond Of brotherhood is sever'd as the flax, That falls asunder at the touch of fire. He finds his fellow guilty of a skin Not colour'd like his own; and having pow'r T' enforce the wrong for such a worthy cause Dooms and devotes him as his lawful prey.
Стр. 106 - Shortening his journey between morn and noon, . And hurrying him, impatient of his stay, Down to the rosy west ; but kindly still Compensating...
Стр. 277 - Thy constant flow of love, that knew no fall, Ne'er roughened by those cataracts and breaks, That humour interposed too often makes ; All this still legible in memory's page, And still to be so to my latest age, Adds joy to duty, makes me glad to pay Such honours to thee as my numbers may ; Perhaps a frail memorial, but sincere, Not scorned in Heaven, though little noticed here.
Стр. 33 - 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. 107 - Made vocal for the amusement of the rest ; The sprightly lyre, whose treasure of sweet sounds The touch from many a trembling chord shakes out ; And the clear voice, symphonious, yet distinct, And in the charming strife triumphant still, Beguile the night, and set a keener edge On female industry : the threaded steel Flies swiftly, and unfelt the task proceeds.

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