The Wreath: Containing The Minstrel and Other Favorite Poems, to which is Added the Life of Beattie
W. Suttaby & B. Corrall, 1806 - 153 pages
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appear bear beauty beneath bosom breast breath calm charms clouds dark dead death deep Distress dread dust earth eternal fair fall Fancy fear fire give gloomy grave hand head hear heard heart Heaven hills hope hour human kind light live lonely look meet mind morn Muse Nature Nature's ne'er never night o'er once pain peace pity plain pleasure poor pride proud rage rest rise roll round ruin scene secret shade silence skies smile soft soon sorrows soul sound stand steps storm strain stream sweet tears tell thee thine thou thought thro tomb trembling truth vain vale various virtue voice wandering waste waves weep wild wind wings wish wretch youth
Page 11 - But who the melodies of morn can tell ? — The wild brook babbling down the mountain side ; The lowing herd ; the sheepfold's simple bell ; The pipe of early shepherd dim descried In the lone valley ; echoing far and wide, The clamorous horn along the cliffs above ; The hollow murmur of the ocean-tide ; The hum of bees ; the linnet's lay of love ; And the full choir that wakes the universal grove.
Page 112 - Her buskins gemm'd with morning dew, Blew an inspiring air, that dale and thicket rung The hunter's call, to Faun and Dryad known.
Page 3 - O, how canst thou renounce the boundless store Of charms which Nature to her votary yields ! The warbling woodland, the resounding shore, The pomp of groves, and garniture of fields ; All that the genial ray of morning gilds, » And all that echoes to the song of even, All that the mountain's sheltering bosom shields, And all the dread magnificence of Heaven...
Page 111 - twas wild. But thou, O Hope, with eyes so fair, What was thy delighted measure ? Still it whisper'd promis'd pleasure, And bade the lovely scenes at distance hail...
Page 113 - Tempe's vale, her native maids, Amidst the festal sounding shades, To some unwearied minstrel dancing, While, as his flying fingers kissed the strings, Love framed with Mirth a gay fantastic round : Loose were her tresses seen, her zone unbound ; And he, amidst his frolic play, As if he would the charming air repay, Shook thousand odours from his dewy wings.
Page 8 - And be it so. Let those deplore their doom, " Whose hope still grovels in this dark sojourn. " But lofty souls, who look beyond the tomb, " Can smile at Fate, and wonder how they mourn. " Shall spring to these sad scenes no more return ? " Is yonder wave the sun's eternal bed ? " Soon shall the orient with new lustre burn, " And spring shall soon her vital influence shed, Again attiuje the grove, again adorn the mead.
Page vi - AH ! who can tell how hard it is to climb The steep where Fame's proud temple shines afar; Ah! who can tell how many a soul sublime Has felt the influence of malignant star, And waged with Fortune an eternal war; Check'd by the scoff of Pride, by Envy's frown, And Poverty's unconquerable bar, In life's low vale remote has pined alone, Then dropt into the grave, unpitied and unknown...
Page 113 - Tis said and I believe the tale, Thy humblest reed could more prevail Had more of strength, diviner rage, Than all which charms this laggard age...
Page 77 - Ah ! why will Kings forget that they are Men ? And Men that they are brethren ? Why delight In human sacrifice ? Why burst the ties Of Nature, that should knit their souls together In one soft bond of amity and love...
Page 112 - He threw his blood-stained sword in thunder down, And with a withering look The war-denouncing trumpet took, And blew a blast so loud and dread, Were ne'er prophetic sounds so full of woe. And ever and anon he beat...