The Poems of William Cowper

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Ernest Fleischer, 1828 - 427 páginas

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Página 181 - Slaves cannot breathe in England ; if their lungs Receive our air, that moment they are free ; They touch our country, and their shackles fall.
Página 406 - GOD moves in a mysterious way His wonders to perform ; He plants his footsteps in the sea, And rides upon the storm. Deep in unfathomable mines Of never-failing skill, He treasures up his bright designs, And works his sovereign will. Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take, The clouds ye so much dread Are big with mercy, and shall break In blessings on your head. Judge not the Lord by feeble sense, But trust him for his grace ; Behind a frowning providence He hides a smiling face.
Página 375 - Were shatter'd at a blow. Down ran the wine into the road, Most piteous to be seen, Which made his horse's flanks to smoke As they had basted been. But still he...
Página 375 - Until he came unto the Wash Of Edmonton so gay ; And there he threw the Wash about, On both sides of the way, Just like unto a trundling mop, Or a wild goose at play. At Edmonton his loving wife From the balcony spied Her tender husband, wondering much To see how he did ride. " Stop, stop, John Gilpin ! Here's the house!
Página 374 - His horse, who never in that sort Had handled been before, What thing upon his back had got Did wonder more and more. Away went Gilpin, neck or nought, Away went hat and wig; He little dreamt, when he set out, Of running such a rig.
Página 393 - Then the progeny that springs From the forests of our land, Arm'd with thunder, clad with wings, Shall a wider world command. Regions Caesar never knew Thy posterity shall sway ; Where his eagles never flew, None invincible as they.
Página 398 - Would'st softly speak, and stroke my head, and smile) — Could those few pleasant days again appear, Might one wish bring them, would I wish them here ? I would not trust my heart — the dear delight Seems so to be desir'd, perhaps I might.
Página 275 - No noise is here, or none that hinders thought. The redbreast warbles still, but is content With slender notes, and more than half suppress'd : Pleased with his solitude, and flitting light From spray to spray, where'er he rests he shakes From many a twig the pendent drops of ice, That tinkle in the wither'd leaves below.
Página 230 - Tis pleasant, through the loopholes of retreat. To peep at such a world ; to see the stir Of the great Babel, and not feel the crowd ; To hear the roar she sends through all her gates At a safe distance, where the dying sound Falls a soft murmur on the uninjured ear.
Página 275 - Upon the southern side of the slant hills, And where the woods fence off the northern blast, The season smiles, resigning all its rage, And has the warmth of May. The vault is blue Without a cloud, and white without a speck The dazzling splendour of the scene below. Again the harmony comes o'er the vale ; And through the trees I view th' embattled tow'r, Whence all the music.

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