The Literary History of England in the End of the Eighteenth and Beginning of the Ninetheenth Century, Volume 2

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Page 70 - The music and the doleful tale, The rich and balmy eve; And hopes, and fears that kindle hope, An undistinguishable throng, And gentle wishes long subdued, Subdued and cherished long! She wept with...
Page 7 - When from thy cheerful eyes a ray Hath struck a bliss upon the day, A bliss that would not go away, A sweet fore-warning?
Page 28 - Story! God bless you! I have none to tell, Sir, Only last night a-drinking at the " Chequers," This poor old hat and breeches, as you see, were Torn in a scuffle. Constables came up for to take me into Custody ; they took me before the justice ; Justice Oldmixon put me in the parishstocks for a vagrant.
Page 27 - Needy Knife-grinder! whither are you going? Rough is the road, your wheel is out of order — Bleak blows the blast ; — your hat has got a hole in't, So have your breeches. Weary Knife-grinder ! little think the proud ones Who in their coaches roll along the turnpikeroad, what hard work 'tis crying all day, " Knives and Scissors to grind O!
Page 274 - Life ! we've been long together Through pleasant and through cloudy weather; 'Tis hard. to part when friends are dear — Perhaps 'twill cost a sigh, a tear; — Then steal away, give little warning, Choose thine own time; Say not Good Night, — but in some brighter clime Bid me Good Morning.
Page 241 - ABOU BEN ADHEM (may his tribe increase!) Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace, And saw within the moonlight in his room, Making it rich and like a lily in bloom, An angel writing in a book of gold: Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold, And to the presence in the room he said, "What writest thou?" The vision raised its head, And, with a look made of all sweet accord, Answered, "The names of those who love the Lord.
Page 274 - Life ! we've been long together, Through pleasant and through cloudy weather ; 'Tis hard to part when friends are dear — Perhaps 'twill cost a sigh, a tear ; Then steal away, give little warning, Choose thine own time ; Say not good-night, but in some brighter clime Bid me "Good-morning.
Page 21 - I wish I were where Helen lies; Night and day on me she cries; And I am weary of the skies, For her sake that died for me.
Page 238 - ... if I said less, than that I think WH to be, in his natural and healthy state, one of the wisest and finest spirits breathing. So far from being ashamed of that intimacy, which was betwixt us, it is my boast that I was able for so many years to have preserved it entire; and I think I shall go to my grave without finding, or expecting to find, such another companion.
Page 37 - Poetry has this much, at least, in common with religion, that its standards were fixed long ago, by certain inspired writers, whose authority it is no longer lawful to call in question...

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