Poems. With an introductory essay by J. Montgomery

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Page 463 - I heard the bell tolled on thy burial day, I saw the hearse that bore thee slow away, And turning from my nursery window, drew A long, long sigh, and wept a last adieu ! But was it such ? It was.
Page 386 - 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 339 - I would not enter on my list of friends (Though graced with polished manners and fine sense Yet wanting sensibility) the man Who needlessly sets foot upon a worm. An inadvertent step may crush the snail That crawls at evening in the public path, But he that has humanity, forewarned, Will tread aside, and let the reptile live.
Page 439 - He grasp'd the mane with both his hands, And eke with all his might. His horse, who never in that sort Had handled been before, What thing upon his back had got Did wonder more and more.
Page 385 - I AM monarch of all I survey, My right there is none to dispute ; From the centre all round to the sea I am lord of the fowl and the brute.
Page 386 - 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...
Page 469 - The man that hails you Tom or Jack, And proves by thumps upon your back How he esteems your merit, Is such a friend that one had need Be very much his friend indeed To pardon or to bear it.
Page 442 - My head is twice as big as yours, They therefore needs must fit. "But let me scrape the dirt away That hangs upon your face; And stop and eat, for well you may Be in a hungry case.
Page 459 - Other Romans shall arise Heedless of a soldier's name; Sounds, not arms, shall win the prize, Harmony the path to fame.
Page 284 - I crown thee King of intimate delights, Fireside enjoyments, homeborn happiness, And all the comforts that the lowly roof Of undisturbed retirement, and the hours Of long uninterrupted evening know.

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