Faringdon Hill. Book II (Henry James Pye Poems)
The sultry hours are past, and Phobus nowSpreads yellower rays along the mountain's brow:The broken clouds unnumber'd tints display,Drinking the ...
The sultry hours are past, and Phobus nowSpreads yellower rays along the mountain's brow:The broken clouds unnumber'd tints display,Drinking the ...
A Vision In that bless'd season, when descending snows, In robes of virgin white, the fields inclose; When Beaux, and Belles, their rural ...
An Epistle Yes, yes, my friend, I quit the fond pretence To cool reflection, and unbiass'd sense; Your hands have torn away the ...
Of all that Nature's rural prospects yield, The chrystal fountain and the flow'ry field, Enough, my Muse!-the force of Beauty trace Now in ...
A POETICAL ESSAY. The various powers by Nature's hand combin'd To fill with harmony the raptur'd mind; Whose forms, as diff'rent lustre they ...
I.1 . The fading beam of parting day Forsakes the western sky, Now shines Diana's gentler ray With virgin majesty; Her face with milder glory ...
I.1. The fading gleam of parting day Forsakes the western sky, Now shines Diana's chaster ray With virgin majesty; Her face with milder glory bright Pales ...
O Happiness! thou wish of every mind, Whose form, more subtle than the fleeting air, Leaves all thy votaries wandering far behind, Eludes ...
ADDRESSED TO SAMUEL JAMES ARNOLD, Esq.: "Behold, with mild and matron mien, "With sober eye, and brow serene, "October sweep along; "Bright are ...
Thee, sad Melpomene, I once again Invoke, nor ask the idly plaintive verse: Quit the light reed for sorrow's sober strain, And hang ...
A College ExerciseI. O sacred Muse! thy aid impart, To rapture wake the sounding lyre! And kindle in my panting heart A spark of ...
AVON. WRITTEN DURING THE STRATFORD JUBILEE. From the clear stream that o'er her grotto flows The silver-slipper'd Avon slowly rose, And pensive on ...
The cause with learn'd investigation fraught,Behold at length to this tribunal brought,No fraud your penetrating eyes can cheat,None here can ...
Of toil you say a moderate share In each pursuit should rise, Too much may make our hearts despair, Too little we despise: In ...
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