Cowper. The didactic poems of 1782, with selections from the minor pieces (The task, wit Tirocinium and selections from the minor poems) ed. by H.T. Griffith, Volume 1

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Page 180 - Ye winds, that have made me your sport, Convey to this desolate shore Some cordial endearing report Of a land I shall visit no more ! My friends, do they now and then send A wish or a thought after me? Oh tell me I yet have a friend, Though a friend I am never to see.
Page 230 - All sadness but despair : now gentle gales, Fanning their odoriferous wings, dispense Native perfumes, and whisper whence they stole Those balmy spoils.
Page 179 - I am lord of the fowl and the brute. 0 solitude ! where are the charms That sages have seen in thy face ? Better dwell in the midst of alarms, Than reign in this horrible place. 1 am out of humanity's reach, I must finish my journey alone, Never hear the sweet music of speech, — I start at the sound of my own. The beasts that roam over the plain My form with indifference see, They are so unacquainted with man, Their tameness is shocking to me.
Page 10 - On the whole it appears, and my argument shows, With a reasoning the court will never condemn, That the spectacles plainly were made for the Nose, And the Nose was as plainly intended for them." Then shifting his side (as a lawyer knows how), He pleaded again in behalf of the Eyes : But what were his arguments few people know, For the court did not think they were equally wise. So his lordship decreed, with a grave., solemn tone, Decisive and clear, without one if or but — " That, whenever the...
Page 180 - How fleet is a glance of the mind ! Compared with the speed of its flight, The tempest itself lags behind, And the swift-winged arrows of light. When I think of my own native land, In a moment I seem to be there ; But alas ! recollection at hand Soon hurries me back to despair.
Page 213 - Coasting the Tyrrhene shore, as the winds listed, On Circe's island fell. (Who knows not Circe, The daughter of the Sun, whose charmed cup Whoever tasted lost his upright shape, And downward fell into a grovelling swine...
Page xliv - Though thy clime Be fickle, and thy year most part deform'd With dripping rains, or wither'd by a frost, I would not yet exchange thy sullen skies, And fields without a flower, for warmer France With all her vines ; nor for Ausonia's groves Of golden fruitage, and her myrtle bowers.
Page 193 - Well done! As loud as he could bawl. Away went Gilpin — who but he? His fame soon spread around; He carries weight ! he rides a race ! 'Tis for a thousand pound...
Page 192 - The wind did blow, the cloak did fly Like streamer long and gay, Till loop and button failing both, At last it flew away.
Page 58 - Toilsome and indigent) she renders much ; Just knows, and knows no more, her bible true, A truth the brilliant Frenchman never knew, And in that charter reads, with sparkling eyes, Her title to a treasure in the skies.

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