Gray

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Macmillan and Company, 1882 - 224 Seiten
 

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Seite 59 - In vain to me the smiling mornings shine, And reddening Phoebus lifts his golden fire : The birds in vain their amorous descant join, Or cheerful fields resume their green attire. These ears, alas ! for other notes repine ; A different object do these eyes require ; My lonely anguish melts no heart but mine ; And in my breast the imperfect joys expire...
Seite 121 - Closed his eyes in endless night. Behold, where Dryden's less presumptuous car, Wide o'er the fields of glory bear Two coursers of ethereal race, With necks in thunder clothed, and long-resounding pace.
Seite 62 - Gainst graver hours that bring constraint To sweeten liberty: Some bold adventurers disdain The limits of their little reign And unknown regions dare descry: Still as they run they look behind, They hear a voice in every wind, And snatch a fearful joy.
Seite 190 - ... up the mountain's side, and discover above them a broken line of crags that crown the scene. Not a single red tile, no flaring gentleman's house, or garden-walls, break in upon the repose of this little unsuspected paradise ; but all is peace, rusticity, and happy poverty in its neatest, most becoming attire.
Seite 153 - Too poor for a bribe, and too proud to importune, He had not the method of making a fortune : Could love and could hate, so was thought somewhat odd ; No very great wit ;— he believed in a God. A post or a pension he did not desire, But left Church and State to Charles Townshend and Squire.
Seite 80 - The fair round face, the snowy beard, The velvet of her paws, Her coat, that with the tortoise vies, Her ears of jet, and emerald eyes, She saw; and purr'd applause.
Seite 57 - To Contemplation's sober eye Such is the race of man : And they that creep, and they that fly, Shall end where they began.
Seite 132 - Girt with many a baron bold, Sublime their starry fronts they rear; And gorgeous dames, and statesmen old In bearded majesty appear.
Seite 149 - Did you never observe (while rocking winds are piping loud) that pause, as the gust is recollecting itself, and rising upon the ear in a shrill and plaintive note, like the swell of an ^Eolian harp ? I do assure you there is nothing in the world so like the voice of a spirit.
Seite 5 - Say, Father Thames, for thou hast seen Full many a sprightly race Disporting on thy margent green The paths of pleasure trace; Who foremost now delight to cleave With pliant arm, thy glassy wave?

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