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So sweetly she bade me adieu,
Part ii. Hope
Jemmy Dawson, Her cap, far whiter than the driven snow, Emblems right meet of decency does yield.
The Schoolmistress. Stanza 6. Pun-provoking thyme.
Stanza 11. A little bench of heedless bishops here, And there a chancellor in embryo.
JOHN BROWN. 1715-1766.
Now let us thank the Eternal Power: convinced
Barbarossa. Act r. Sc. 3. And coxcombs vanquish Berkeley by a grin.
An Essay on Satire, occasioned by the Death of Mr. Pope.?
JAMES TOWNLEY. 1715-1778.
Kitty. Shikspur ? Shikspur? Who wrote it? No, I never read Shikspur.
Lady Bab. Then you have an immense pleasure to come.
High Life below Stairs. Act i. Sc. 1. From humble Port to imperial Tokay.
1 ANDERSON: British Poets, vol. x. p. 879. See note in “Contemporary Review," September, 1867, p. 4.
What female heart can gold despise ?
On the death of a Farourite Cat.
Ye distant spires, ye antique towers.
On a Distant Prospect of Eton College. Stanza 1.
Ah, fields beloved in vain !
A stranger yet to pain!
Less pleasing when possest;
Alas ! regardless of their doom,
The little victims play ;
Nor care beyond to-day.
Condemn'd alike to groan,
Th' unfeeling for his own.
And happiness too swiftly flies ?
Thought would destroy their paradise. No more; where ignorance is bliss, 'Tis folly to be wise.
On a Distant Prospect of Elon College. Slanza 10 Daughter of Jove, relentless power,
Thou tamer of the human breast, Whose iron scourge and tort'ring hour The bad affright, afflict the best!
Hymn to Adrersily. From Helicon's harmonious springs A thousand rills their
mazy progress take.
The Progress of Poesy. I. 1, line 3. Glance their many-twinkling feet. O'er her warm cheek and rising bosom move The bloom of young Desire and purple light of Love."
Line 16. Her track, where'er the goddess roves, Glory pursue, and gen'rous shame, Th’ unconquerable mind, and freedom's holy flame.
3, Line 11.
11. 2, Line 10.
Or ope the sacred source of sympathetic tears.
III. 1, Line 12. He pass'd the flaming bounds of place and time: The living throne, the sapphire blaze, Where angels tremble while they gaze, He saw ; but blasted with excess of light, Closed his eyes in endless night. Bright-eyed Fancy, hov'ring o'er, Scatters from her pictured urn Thoughts that breathe and words that burn." Beyond the limits of a vulgar fate, Beneath the good how far, — but far above the great.
2, Line 4.
3, Line 2.
i See Davenant, page 217.
Ecclesiastes i. 18. 2 The light of love. - Byron : Bride of Aby.lvs, canto i. stanza 6. 3 Unconquerable mind. WORDSWORTH : To Toussaint L'Ourerture. 4 See Cowley, page 262.
Ruin seize thee, ruthless king!
Confusion on thy banners wait!
The Bard. I. 1, Line 1.
2, Line 5. To high-born Hoel's harp, or soft Llewellyn's lay.
Line 14. Dear as the light that visits these sad eyes ; Dear as the ruddy drops that warm my
3, Line 12. Weave the warp, and weave the woof,
The winding-sheet of Edward's race. Give ample room and verge enough 8 The characters of hell to trace.
II. 1, Line 1. Fair laughs the morn, and soft the zephyr blows;
While proudly riding o'er the azure realm
and Pleasure at the helm; Regardless of the sweeping whirlwind's sway, That hush'd in grim repose expects his evening prey.
2, Line 9. Ye towers of Julius, London's lasting shame, With many a foul and midnight murder fed.
3, Line 11. Visions of glory, spare my aching sight! Ye unborn ages, crowd not on my soul !
III. 1, Line 11. And truth severe, by fairy fiction drest.
3, Line 3. Comus and his midnight crew.
Ode for Music. Line 2. While brighteyed Science watches round.
Ibid. Chorus. Line 3. The still small voice of gratitude.
Ibid. V. Line 8.
1 See Cowley, page 261. Milton, page 224.
Iron sleet of
shower Hurtles in the darken'd air.
The Fatal Sisters. Line 3.
The curfew tolls the knell of parting day,
The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea, The ploughman homeward plods his weary way, And leaves the world to darkness and to me.
Elegy in a Country Churchyard. Slanza 1. Each in his narrow cell forever laid,
The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep. Stanza 4. The breezy call of incense-breathing morn. Stanza 5. Nor grandeur hear with a disdainful smile
The short and simple annals of the poor. Stanza 8. The boast of heraldry, the pomp of pow'r,
And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave,
Stanza 9. Where through the long-drawn aisle and fretted vault, The pealing anthem swells the note of praise.
Stanza 10. Can storied urn, or animated bust,
Back to its mansion call the fleeting breath ? Can honour's voice provoke the silent dust,
Or flatt'ry soothe the dull cold ear of death ? Stanza 11. Hands that the rod of empire might have sway'd, Or waked to ecstasy the living lyre.
Stanza 12 But Knowledge to their eyes her ample page,
Rich with the spoils of time, did ne'er unroll ;' Chill penury repress'd their noble rage,
And froze the genial current of the soul. Stanza 13
1 The first edition reads,
“The lowing herds wind slowly o'er the lea." * Soe Sir Thomas Browne, page 217.