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afar alarms appear arms beam beauty bloom borne bosom breast breath bright charms cheer clouds dare dark death deep desire doom dread dream earth Edwin fair fame fancy fate fear fell fierce fire flowers gale glittering glory glow green grove hand happiness head hear heart heaven hope hour laws learned light lines live lone look man's marked melt mind MINSTREL morn mortal mountains mourn murmur Muse nature Nature's never night o'er path peace plain pleasure poem pomp pride rage rise roam roll round scene shade smile soft song sooth soul sound spring storm strain stream sublime sweet tear thee thine thou thought thunder truth vain vale virtue voice wander warm waste wave wild wind wings wish youth
Page 30 - IX. 0 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, O how canst thou renounce, and hope to be forgiven ! X.
Page 40 - 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 179 - No withered witch shall here be seen, No goblins lead their nightly crew: The female fays shall haunt the green, And dress thy grave with pearly dew; The redbreast oft, at evening hours, Shall kindly lend his little aid, With hoary moss, and gathered flowers, To deck the ground where thou art laid.
Page 181 - Let Vanity adorn the marble tomb With trophies, rhymes, and scutcheons of renown, In the deep dungeon of some gothic dome, Where night and desolation ever frown. Mine be the breezy hill that skirts the down; Where a green grassy turf is all I crave, With here and there a violet bestrown, Fast by a brook, or fountain's murmuring wave; And many an evening sun shine sweetly on my grave.
Page 30 - 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, O how canst thou renounce, and hope to be forgiven ! These charms shall work thy soul's eternal health, And love, and gentleness, and joy impart.
Page 34 - And oft the craggy cliff he loved to climb, When all in mist the world below was lost. What dreadful pleasure ! there to stand sublime, Like shipwreck'd mariner on desert coast, And view th...
Page 13 - THE design was to trace the progress of a Poetical Genius, born in a rude age, from the first dawning of fancy and reason, till that period at which he may be supposed capable of appearing in the world as A MINSTBEL, that is, as an itinerant Poet and Musician ; — a character which, according to the notions of our forefathers, was not only respectable, but sacred.
Page 35 - Fled each fair form, and mute each melting sound) The raven croaks forlorn on naked spray, And, hark! the river bursting every mound, Down the vale thunders ; and, with wasteful sway, Uproots the grove, and rolls the shattered rocks away . Yet such the destiny of all on earth : So flourishes and fades majestic man.
Page 36 - Shall I be left forgotten in the dust, When Fate, relenting, lets the flower revive ? Shall Nature's voice, to man alone unjust, Bid him, though doom'd to perish, hope to live ? Is it for this fair Virtue oft must strive With disappointment, penury, and pain ? No : Heaven's immortal Spring shall yet arrive, And man's majestic beauty bloom again, Bright through th' eternal year of Love's triumphant reign.
Page 177 - 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...