The Metrical Miscellany: Consisting Chiefly of Poems Hitherto Unpublished

T. Cadell, and W. Davies, 1802 - 224 páginas

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Página 103 - HAIL, blushing goddess, beauteous Spring, Who in thy jocund train dost bring Loves and Graces, smiling hours, Balmy breezes, fragrant flowers, Come, with tints of roseate hue, Nature's faded charms renew. Yet why should I thy presence hail ? To me no more the breathing gale Comes fraught with...
Página 217 - Best of thy kind, adieu ! The frantic deed which laid thee low, This heart shall ever rue.
Página 215 - O'erturned his infant's bed he found, With blood-stained covert rent ; And all around, the walls and ground With recent blood besprent. He called his child — no voice replied — He searched, with terror wild ; Blood, blood he found on every side, But nowhere found his child. " Hell-hound ! my child's by thee devoured," The frantic father cried ; And to the hilt his vengeful sword He plunged in Gelert's side.
Página 155 - All in dreary hammocks shrouded, Which for winding-sheets they wore. And, with looks by sorrow clouded, Frowning on that hostile shore. On them gleam'd the moon's wan lustre, When the shade of Hosier brave His pale bands was seen to...
Página 214 - In sooth, he was a peerless hound, the gift of royal John ; but now no Gelert could be found, and all the chase rode on. And now, as over rocks and dells the gallant chidings rise, all Snowdon's craggy chaos yells with many mingled cries.
Página 214 - Oh, where does faithful Gelert roam ? the flower of all his race ! so true, so brave ! a lamb at home — a lion in the chase!
Página 216 - Nor scathe had he, nor harm nor dread, But, the same couch beneath, Lay a gaunt wolf, all torn and dead, Tremendous still in death. Ah, what was then...
Página 215 - Llewelyn homeward hied ; When, near the portal seat, His truant Gelert he espied, Bounding his lord to greet. But, when he gain'd his castle door, Aghast the chieftain stood ; The hound all o'er was smear'd with gore His lips, his fangs ran blood.
Página 148 - By the sea's margin, on the watery strand, Thy monument, Themistocles, shall stand. By this directed to thy native shore, The merchant shall convey his freighted store; And when our fleets are summon'd to the fight, Athens shall conquer with thy tomb in sight.
Página 104 - I invoke thy aid ! Vouchsafe to hear a wretched maid, By tender love deprest ; Tis just that thou should'st heal the smart Inflicted by thy subtle art, And calm my troubled breast. No random shot from Cupid's bow, But by thy guidance, soft and slow, It sunk within my heart ; Thus, Love being arm'd with Wisdom's force, In vain I try to stop its course, In vain repel the dart.

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