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The Poems of William Drummond, of Hawthornden: With Life (1833)
No preview available - 2009
appear arms beams bear beauty behold bliss blood blushing born breath bright bring cause clear crown dead dear death delight desire didst dost doth Drummond earth eyes face fair fall Fates fear fields flames floods flow'rs give glory gold golden grace grief hair hand happy hath head hear heart heaven hold hopes keep king kiss late leave light live locks look mind morn mortal mountains move Nature never night nought once pain plain pleasure poet praise prince prove raise rest rose sacred sense shade shadow shew shine sighs sight skies SONNET soul sound spring stands stars strange streams sweet tears tell thee things thou thought trees true turn unto virtue weep wonder woods worth wound
Page 317 - ... the charms That call fame on such gentle acts as these, And he can spread thy name o'er lands and seas, Whatever clime the sun's bright circle warms. Lift not thy spear against the Muses' bower : The great Emathian conqueror bid spare The house of Pindarus, when temple and tower Went to the ground ; and the repeated air Of sad Electra's poet had the power To save the Athenian walls from ruin bare.
Page 191 - A diamond for ever should it mark. This is the morn should bring unto this grove My Love, to hear and recompense my love. Fair king, who all preserves, But show thy blushing beams, And thou two sweeter eyes Shalt see, than those which by Peneus' streams Did once thy heart surprise.
Page 44 - O could I flow like thee, and make thy stream My great example, as it is my theme! Though deep, yet clear, though gentle, yet not dull, Strong without rage, without o'er-flowing full.
Page 214 - Voice which did thy sounds approve, Which wont in such harmonious strains to flow, Is reft from Earth to tune those spheres above What art thou but a harbinger of woe ? Thy pleasing notes be pleasing notes no more, But orphans...
Page 193 - Sweet is the breath of morn, her rising sweet, With charm of earliest birds; pleasant the sun, When first on this delightful land he spreads His orient beams, on herb, tree, fruit, and flower, Glistering with dew; fragrant the fertile earth After soft showers; and sweet the coming on Of grateful evening
Page 43 - But he, descending to the shades, Darkness again the age invades ; Next (like Aurora) Spenser rose, Whose purple blush the day foreshows ; The other three with his own fires PhoebuB, the poet's god, inspires : By Shakspeare's, Jonson's, Fletcher's lines, Our stage's lustre Rome's outshines.
Page 252 - DOTH then the world go thus, doth all thus move? Is this the justice which on earth we find ? Is this that firm decree which all doth bind ? Are these your influences, Powers above? Those souls which vice's moody mists most blind, Blind Fortune, blindly, most their friend doth prove; And they who thee, poor idol, Virtue ! love, Ply like a feather toss'd by storm and wind. Ah! if a Providence doth sway this all, Why should best minds groan under most distress? Or...
Page 234 - MADRIGAL My thoughts hold mortal strife ; I do detest my life, And with lamenting cries Peace to my soul to bring Oft call that prince which here doth monarchize : — But he, grim grinning King, Who caitiffs scorns, and doth the blest surprise, Late having deck'd with beauty's rose his tomb, Disdains to crop a weed, and will not come.
Page 137 - Thrice happy he, who by some shady grove, Far from the clamorous world, doth live his own ; Though solitary, who is not alone, But doth converse with that eternal Love. O how more sweet is bird's harmonious moan, Or the hoarse sobbings of the widow'd dove, Than those smooth whisperings near a prince's throne, Which good make doubtful, do the evil approve...