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admiration appear bear beautiful blest breathe character charm Chichester College Collins Collins's death delight Eclogues effect equal expression eyes fair fame Fancy Fear feel fire force genius give Gray grief grove hand happy harmony hear heart hope hour human imagery imagination inspired Johnson kind language leave letters light lines lived maid merit mind moral Muse native nature never numbers o'er objects observations once Oxford passions pastoral Peace perfect perhaps Persian person Pity plain poems poet poetical poetry raise reader reason rise round scene seems shade shepherds side sister song soon sound spirit springs strain sweet taste tears tender thee thou thought tion truth turn vale VARIATIONS verse virtue whole wild winds writing written youth
Página 61 - Tempe's vale, her native maids, Amidst the festal sounding shades, To some unwearied minstrel dancing, While, as his flying fingers kiss'd the strings, Love framed with Mirth a gay fantastic round ; Loose were her tresses seen, her zone unbound : And he, amidst his frolic play, As if he would the charming air repay, Shook thousand odours from his dewy wings.
Página 87 - To fair Fidele's grassy tomb Soft maids and village hinds shall bring Each opening sweet, of earliest bloom, And rifle all the breathing Spring. No wailing ghost shall dare appear To vex with shrieks this quiet grove ; But shepherd lads assemble here, And melting virgins own their love. No wither'd witch shall here be seen, No goblins lead their nightly crew; The female fays shall haunt the green, And dress thy grave with pearly dew...
Página 50 - Or find some ruin midst its dreary dells, Whose walls more awful nod By thy religious gleams. Or if chill blustering winds or driving rain Prevent my willing feet, be mine the hut That, from the mountain's side, Views wilds and swelling floods, And hamlets brown, and dim-discover'd spires ; And hears their simple bell ; and marks o'er all Thy dewy fingers draw The gradual dusky veil.
Página 9 - Schiraz' walls I bent my way." At that dead hour the silent asp shall creep, If aught of rest I find, upon my sleep : Or some swoln serpent twist his scales around, And wake to anguish with a burning wound. Thrice happy they, the wise contented poor, From lust of wealth, and dread of death secure!
Página 61 - But soon he saw the brisk awakening viol, Whose sweet entrancing voice he loved the best. They would have thought who heard the strain. They saw in Tempe's...
Página lix - twas wild. But thou, O Hope, with eyes so fair, What was thy delighted measure ! Still it whispered promised pleasure, And bade the lovely scenes at distance hail ! Still would her touch the strain prolong, And from the rocks, the woods, the vale, She...
Página 49 - O'erhang his wavy bed: Now air is hushed, save where the weak-eyed bat With short shrill shriek flits by on leathern wing, Or where the beetle winds His small but sullen horn, As oft he rises, 'midst the twilight path Against the pilgrim borne in heedless hum...
Página 110 - Ye mute companions of my toils, that bear In all my griefs a more than equal share, Here, where no springs in murmurs break away, Or...
Página 63 - IN yonder grave a Druid lies, Where slowly winds the stealing wave; The year's best sweets shall duteous rise To deck its poet's sylvan grave. In yon deep bed of whispering reeds His airy harp shall now be laid, That he, whose heart in sorrow bleeds, May love through life the soothing shade.