POEMS, BY WILLIAM COWPER, ESQ

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Strona 239 - 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. Said John, It is my wedding-day, And all the world would stare, If wife should dine at Edmonton, And I should dine at Ware.
Strona 30 - Just estimation prized above all price, I had much rather be myself the slave And wear the bonds, than fasten them on him.
Strona 178 - 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.
Strona 182 - A thousand other themes less deeply traced. Thy nightly visits to my chamber made, That thou might'st know me safe and warmly laid ; Thy morning bounties ere I left my home, The biscuit, or confectionary plum...
Strona 112 - Toll for the brave ! Brave Kempenfelt is gone ; His last sea-fight is fought ; His work of glory done. It was not in the battle ; No tempest gave the shock ; She sprang no fatal leak ; She ran upon no rock.
Strona 251 - He loved them both, but both in vain, Nor him beheld, nor her again. Not long beneath the whelming brine, Expert to swim, he lay ; Nor soon he felt his strength decline, Or courage die away ; But waged with death a lasting strife, Supported by despair of life.
Strona 77 - Now stir the fire, and close the shutters fast, Let fall the curtains, wheel the sofa round, And while the bubbling and loud-hissing urn Throws up a steamy column, and the cups, That cheer but not inebriate, wait on each, So let us welcome peaceful evening in.
Strona 182 - 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. Where thou art gone Adieus and farewells are a sound unknown. May I but meet thee on that peaceful shore, The parting word shall pass my lips no more ! Thy maidens, grieved themselves at my concern, Oft gave me promise of thy quick return.
Strona 178 - 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.
Strona 125 - The night was winter in his roughest mood; The morning sharp and clear. But now at noon Upon the southern side of the slant hills, And where the woods fence off the northern blast, The season smiles, resigning all its rage, And has the warmth of May. The vault is blue Without a cloud, and white without a speck The dazzling splendour of the scene below.

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