Comentarios de la gente - Escribir un comentario
No encontramos ningún comentario en los lugares habituales.
Otras ediciones - Ver todas
The Poetical Works of William Cowper, with Life, Critical Dissertation, and ...
Sin vista previa disponible - 2015
beauty beneath cause charge charms close course Cowper dark death deep delight divine dream earth ease eyes face fair fall fancy fear feel felt field fire flowers folly force fruit give glory grace half hand happy head heart Heaven hope hour human kind kings land least leaves less light live lost means mind Nature never night once peace perhaps play pleasure poor praise pride prove rest scene seek seems seen sense serve shine side sight skies smile song soon soul sound speak stand stream sweet taste thee theme thine things thou thought thousand true truth turn vain virtue waste wind wisdom wise wonder worth wrong youth
Página 303 - He is the freeman whom the truth makes free, And all are slaves beside. There's not a chain That hellish foes, confederate for his harm, Can wind around him, but he casts it off With as much ease as Samson his green withes. He looks abroad into the varied field Of nature, and though poor perhaps, compared With those whose mansions glitter in his sight, Calls the delightful scenery all his own. His are the mountains, and the valleys his, And the resplendent rivers. His to' enjoy With a propriety that...
Página 207 - Tust estimation prized above all price, I had much rather be myself the slave And wear the bonds, than fasten them on him. We have no slaves at home — then why abroad ? And they themselves, once ferried o'er the wave That parts us, are emancipate and loosed. Slaves cannot breathe in England ; if their lungs 40 Receive our air, that moment they are free, They touch our country and their shackles fall.
Página 387 - How fleet is a glance of the mind ! Compared with the speed of its flight, The tempest itself lags behind, And the swift-winged arrows of light When I think of my own native land In a moment I seem to be there; But alas! recollection at hand Soon hurries me back to despair.
Página 56 - Yon cottager who weaves at her own door, Pillow and bobbins all her little store, Content though mean, and cheerful, if not gay, Shuffling her threads about the live-long day, Just earns a scanty pittance, and at night Lies down secure, her heart and pocket light ; She for her humble sphere by nature fit, Has little understanding, and no wit, Receives no praise, but (though her lot be such, Toilsome and indigent) she renders much ; Just knows, and knows no more, her bible true, A truth the brilliant...
Página 207 - I would not have a slave to till my ground, To carry me, to fan me while I sleep, And tremble when I wake, for all the wealth That sinews bought and sold have ever earn'd.
Página 312 - Knowledge dwells In heads replete with thoughts of other men ; Wisdom in minds attentive to their own. Knowledge a rude unprofitable mass, The mere materials with which wisdom builds, Till smoothed, and squared, and fitted to its place, Does but encumber whom it seems to enrich.
Página 308 - Thou art the source and centre of all minds, Their only point of rest, eternal Word ! From thee departing they are lost, and rove At random without honour, hope, or peace. From thee is all that soothes the life of man, His high endeavour, and his glad success, His strength to suffer, and his will to serve.
Página 387 - Ye winds that have made me your sport. Convey to this desolate shore Some cordial endearing report Of a land I shall visit no more : My friends, do they now and then send A wish or a thought after me ? O tell me I yet have a friend, Though a friend I am never to see.
Página 176 - Nor those of learn'd philologists, who chase A panting syllable through time and space, Start it at home, and hunt it in the dark, To Gaul, to Greece, and into Noah's ark ; But such as learning, without false pretence, The friend of truth, the associate of sound sense.
Página 262 - Made vocal for the amusement of the rest ; The sprightly lyre, whose treasure of sweet sounds The touch from many a trembling chord shakes out ; And the clear voice, symphonious, yet distinct, And in the charming strife triumphant still, Beguile the night, and set a keener edge On female industry : the threaded steel Flies swiftly, and unfelt the task proceeds.