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AUGUST bank beauty beneath bird bloom blue bower breast breathe bright brook charm cheer clear close clouds DAISY delight doth dwell early earth eyes fair falcon fall fate FIELD Flow flowers fresh gently give gladness glowing gold grass gray green grove grows hand happy hast hath head hear heart heaven hern hill hope hour lark leaves light look meet mind morning mountain Nature nest never o'er pass peace plain pleasure praise pure rest river rose round rural scenes seen shade shepherd sight simple sing smile soft song soul sound SPORTS spring stream SUMMER sweet teares tell thee thou thought tree vale valley village violet voice WALK wandering waters waving weep wild willows wind wings woods young youth
Seite 24 - MINE be a cot beside the hill, A bee-hive's hum shall soothe my ear ; A willowy brook, that turns a mill, With many a fall, shall linger near. The swallow, oft, beneath my thatch Shall twitter from her clay-built nest ; Oft shall the pilgrim lift the latch, And share my meal, a welcome guest.
Seite 55 - Up with me ! up with me into the clouds ! For thy song, Lark, is strong; Up with me, up with me into the clouds ! . . ..:. Singing, singing, With clouds and sky about thee ringing, Lift me, guide me till I find That spot which seems so to thy mind...
Seite 41 - You haste away so soon; As yet the early-rising Sun Has not attain'd his noon. Stay, stay Until the hasting day Has run But to the even-song; And, having pray'd together, we Will go with you along. We have short time to stay, as you, We have as short a Spring ; As quick a growth to meet decay As you, or any thing.
Seite 20 - Phoebus is himself thy sire. To thee, of all things upon earth, Life is no longer than thy mirth. Happy insect, happy thou ! Dost neither age nor winter know; But, when thou'st drunk, and danc'd, and sung Thy fill, the flowery leaves among, (Voluptuous and wise withal, Epicurean animal!) Sated with thy summer feast, Thou retir'st to endless rest.
Seite 26 - How oft upon yon eminence our pace Has slackened to a pause, and we have borne The ruffling wind, scarce conscious that it blew, While Admiration, feeding at the eye, And still unsated, dwelt upon the scene.
Seite 91 - My Mary's asleep by thy murmuring stream, Flow gently, sweet Afton, disturb not her dream.
Seite 50 - Or that ye have not seen as yet The violet ? Or brought a kiss From that Sweet-heart, to this? — No, no, this sorrow shown By your tears shed, Would have this lecture read, That things of greatest, so of meanest worth, Conceived with grief are, and with tears brought forth.
Seite 26 - Leave to the nightingale her shady wood ; A privacy of glorious light is thine; Whence thou dost pour upon the world a flood Of harmony, with instinct more divine; Type of the wise who soar, but never roam; True to the kindred points of Heaven and Home...
Seite 24 - With many a fall shall linger near. The swallow, oft, beneath my thatch, Shall twitter from her clay-built nest ; Oft shall the pilgrim lift the latch, And share my meal, a welcome guest. Around my ivied porch shall spring Each fragrant flower that drinks the dew ; And Lucy, at her wheel, shall sing In russet gown and apron blue.