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Oxford University Press, 1874
 

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Página 7 - Almighty hath not built Here for his envy, will not drive us hence: Here we may reign secure, and, in my choice, To reign is worth ambition, though in hell: Better to reign in hell, than serve in heaven.
Página 353 - There is not wind enough to twirl The one red leaf, the last of its clan, That dances as often as dance it can, Hanging so light, and hanging so high, On the topmost twig that looks up at the sky.
Página 52 - ... man be ? — By the side of a spring, on the breast of Helvellyn, Under the twigs of a young birch tree ! The oak that in summer was sweet to hear, And rustled its leaves in the fall of the year, And whistled and roared in the winter alone, Is gone, — and the birch in its stead is grown. — The Knight's bones are dust, And his good sword rust ; — His soul is with the saints, I trust.
Página 145 - Full many a gem of purest ray serene The dark unfathom'd caves of ocean bear : Full many a flower is born to blush unseen, And waste its sweetness on the desert air. Some village- Hampden, that, with dauntless breast, The little tyrant of his fields withstood, Some mute inglorious Milton here may rest, Some Cromwell guiltless of his country's blood. Th...
Página 313 - Time hath, my lord, a wallet at his back, Wherein he puts alms for oblivion, A great-sized monster of ingratitudes : Those scraps are good deeds past : which are devour'd As fast as they are made, forgot as soon As done...
Página 158 - THAT, AND A' THAT. Is there, for honest Poverty, That hangs his head, and a' that ; The coward slave — we pass him by ! We dare be poor for a
Página 126 - Go, lovely Rose ! Tell her that wastes her time and me, That now she knows, When I resemble her to thee, How sweet and fair she seems to be. Tell her that's young, And shuns to have her graces spied, That had'st thou sprung In deserts where no men abide, Thou must have uncommended died. Small is the worth Of beauty from the light retired : Bid her come forth, Suffer herself to be desired, And not blush so to be admired. Then die ! that she The common fate of all things rare May read in thee, —...
Página 251 - Sophy's air to different words, and give to its plaintive tones some little history of virtuous distress in humble life, such as might suit it. While attempting to effect this in my closet, I called to my little sister, now Lady...
Página 285 - A man who has been brought up among books, and is able to talk of nothing else, is a very indifferent companion, and what we call a pedant. But, methinks, we should enlarge the title, and give it to every one that does not know how to think out of his profession and particular way of life.
Página 220 - Then to the well-trod stage anon, If Jonson's learned sock be on, Or sweetest Shakespeare, Fancy's child, Warble his native wood-notes wild.

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