A Letter to the Right Hon. Lord Byron: Protesting Against the Immolation of Gray, Cowper, & Campbell, at the Shrine of Pope

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G. Cowie, 1821 - 34 páginas

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Página 27 - For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn, Or busy housewife ply her evening care ; No children run to lisp their sire's return, Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share.
Página 5 - Ambition this shall tempt to rise, Then whirl the wretch from high, To bitter Scorn a sacrifice, And grinning Infamy. The stings of Falsehood those shall try, And hard Unkindness' alter'd eye, That mocks the tear it forc'd to flow ; And keen Remorse with blood defil'd.
Página 8 - ... or by whatever name you term it, whose object is to make men better and wiser, is not the very first order of poetry; and are we to be told this too by one of the priesthood? It requires more mind, more wisdom, more power, than all the 'forests" that ever were 'walked' for their 'description', and all the epics that ever were founded upon fields of battle.
Página 19 - Tis not, as heads that never ache suppose, Forgery of fancy and a dream of woes ; Man is a harp whose chords elude the sight, Each yielding harmony, disposed aright, The screws reversed, (a task which if he please God in a moment executes with ease,) Ten thousand thousand strings at once go loose, Lost, till he tune them, all their power and use.
Página 9 - Look round our world ; behold the chain of love Combining all below and all above. See plastic Nature working to this end, The single atoms each to other tend, Attract...
Página 26 - How close and small the hedges lie ! What streaks of meadows cross the eye! A step methinks may pass the stream, So little distant dangers seem ; So we mistake the future's face, Ey'd thro...
Página 30 - Pray, do not mock me : I am a very foolish fond old man, Fourscore and upward ; and, to deal plainly, I fear, I am not in my perfect mind.
Página 21 - Heaven to thy charge resigns the awful hour ! Oh ! then, thy kingdom comes ! Immortal Power ! What though each spark...
Página 26 - Why do those cliffs of shadowy tint appear More sweet than all the landscape smiling near ?— 'Tis distance lends enchantment to the view, And robes the mountain in its azure hue.

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