The Pleasures of Hope: With Other Poems

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Longman, Hurst, Rees, Orme, and Brown, 1822 - English fiction - 144 pages
This is a traditional 18th century didactic poem in heroic couplets.

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Page 38 - Oh ! bloodiest picture in the book of Time Sarmatia fell unwept, without a crime ; Found not a generous friend, a pitying foe, Strength in her arms, nor mercy in her woe...
Page 37 - Firm-paced and slow, a horrid front they form, Still as the breeze, but dreadful as the storm; Low murmuring sounds along their banners fly, Revenge, or death...
Page 25 - Bright as the pillar rose at Heaven's command, When Israel march'd along -the desert land, Blazed through the night on lonely wilds afar, And told the path, — a never-setting star : So, heavenly Genius, in thy course divine, HOPE is thy star, her light is ever thine.
Page 11 - AT summer eve, when Heaven's ethereal bow Spans with bright arch the glittering hills below, Why to yon mountain turns the musing eye, Whose sunbright summit mingles with the sky ? Why do those cliffs of shadowy tint appear More sweet than all the landscape smiling near ?'Tis distance lends enchantment to the view, And robes the mountain in its azure hue.
Page 36 - Pealed her loud drum, and twanged her trumpet horn; Tumultuous horror brooded o'er her van, Presaging wrath to Poland — and to man! Warsaw's last champion from her height surveyed. Wide o'er the fields, a waste of ruin laid — O Heaven!
Page 83 - Doomed o'er the world's precarious scene to sweep, Swift as the tempest travels on the deep, To know Delight but by her parting smile, And toil, and wish, and weep a little while ; Then melt, ye elements, that formed in vain This troubled pulse, and visionary brain ! Fade, ye wild flowers, memorials of my doom, And sink, ye stars, that light me to the tomb...
Page 81 - Are these the pompous tidings ye proclaim, Lights of the world, and demigods of Fame ? Is this your triumph — this your proud applause, Children of Truth, and champions of her cause ? For this hath Science...
Page 69 - And let the half-uncurtain'd window hail Some way-worn man benighted in the vale ! Now, while the moaning night-wind rages high, As sweep the shot-stars down the troubled sky, While fiery hosts in Heaven's wide circle play, And bathe in lurid light the milky-way, Safe from the storm, the meteor, and the shower, Some pleasing page shall charm the solemn hour — With pathos shall command, with wit beguile, A generous tear of anguish, or a smile...
Page 82 - Science, hast thou wandered there, To waft us home the message of despair ? Then bind the palm, thy sage's brow to suit, Of blasted leaf, and death-distilling fruit!
Page 136 - Ah, no ! the last pang in my bosom is heaving ! No light of the morn shall to Henry return ! Thou charmer of life, ever tender and true : Ye babes of my love that await me afar ! — His faltering tongue scarce could murmur adieu, When he sunk in her arms — the poor wounded Hussar ! GILDEROY.

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