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Historical Sketches of English and American Literature: Embracing an Account ...
Keine Leseprobe verfügbar - 2015
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Seite 211 - Thy waters wasted them while they were free, And many a tyrant since ; their shores obey The stranger, slave, or savage ; their decay Has dried up realms to deserts ; — not so thou, Unchangeable save to thy wild waves' play, Time writes no wrinkle on thine azure brow, Such as creation's dawn beheld, thou rollest now.
Seite 35 - No longer mourn for me when I am dead, Than you shall hear the surly sullen bell Give warning to the world that I am fled From this vile world, with vilest worms to dwell : Nay, if you read this line, remember not The hand that writ it ; for I love you so, That I in your sweet thoughts would be forgot, If thinking on me then should make you woe.
Seite 144 - The unfeeling for his own. Yet, ah ! why should they know their fate, Since sorrow never comes too late, And happiness too swiftly flies? Thought would destroy their paradise. No more ; — where ignorance is bliss, 'Tis folly to be wise.
Seite 210 - Roll on, thou deep and dark blue Ocean - roll ! Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain ; Man marks the earth with ruin - his control Stops with the shore ; upon the watery plain The wrecks are all thy deed, nor doth remain A shadow of man's ravage, save his own. When, for a moment, like a drop of rain, He sinks into thy depths with bubbling groan, Without a grave, unknell'd, uncoffin'd, and unknown.
Seite 86 - A man so various that he seemed to be Not one, but all mankind's epitome : Stiff in opinions, always in the wrong, Was everything by starts and nothing long ; But in the course of one revolving moon Was chymist, fiddler, statesman, and buffoon ; Then all for women, painting, rhyming, drinking, Besides ten thousand freaks that died in thinking.
Seite 111 - And screams of horror rend th' affrighted skies. Not louder shrieks to pitying heaven are cast, When husbands or when lapdogs breathe their last ; Or when rich China vessels, fall'n from high, In glitt'ring dust and painted fragments lie ! " Let wreaths of triumph now my temples twine...
Seite 111 - The berries crackle, and the mill turns round; On shining altars of Japan they raise The silver lamp; the fiery spirits blaze: From silver spouts the grateful liquors glide, While China's earth receives the smoking tide: At once they gratify their scent and taste, And frequent cups prolong the rich repast.
Seite 111 - The little engine on his fingers' ends; This just behind Belinda's neck he spread, As o'er the fragrant steams she bends her head. Swift to the lock a thousand sprites repair...
Seite 211 - And shake him from thee ; the vile strength he wields For earth's destruction, thou dost all despise, Spurning him from thy bosom to the skies. And send'st him, shivering, in thy playful spray, And howling, to his gods, where haply lies His petty hope in some near port or bay, And dashest him again to earth : there let him lay.