#EnglishWriters
(Isaiah, IX. 15-20) Hear what God the Lord hath spoke… “O my people, faint and few, Comfortless, afflicted, broken, Fair abodes I build for you.
The billows swell, the winds are h… Clouds overcast my wintry sky; Out of the depths to Thee I call,… My fears are great, my strength is… O Lord, the pilot’s part perform,
In language warm as could be breat… Thy picture speaks the original my… Not by those looks that indicate t… They only speak thee friend of all… Expression here more soothing stil…
Here lies, whom hound did ne’er… Nor swiftewd greyhound follow, Whose foot ne’er tainted morning… Nor ear heard huntsman’s hallo’… Old Tiney, surliest of his kind,
Oh happy shades—to me unblest! Friendly to peace, but not to me! How ill the scene that offers rest… And heart that cannot rest, agree! This glassy stream, that spreading…
I thirst, but not as once I did, The vain delights of earth to shar… Thy wounds, Emmanuel, all forbid That I should seek my pleasures t… It was the sight of Thy dear cros…
The Bard, if e’er he feel at all, Must sure be quickened by a call Both on his heart and head, To pay with tuneful thanks the car… And kindness of a lady fair
To grass, or leaf, or fruit, or wa… The snail sticks close, nor fears… As if he grew there, house and all Together. Within that house secure he hides,
Say, ye apostate and profane, Wretches, who blush not to disdain Allegiance to your God,— Did e’er your idly wasted love Of virtue for her sake remove
Doomed, as I am, in solitude to w… The present moments, and regret th… Deprived of every joy I valued mo… My friend torn from me, and my mis… Call not this gloom I wear, this…
I place an offering at thy shrine, From taint and blemish clear, Simple and pure in its design, Of all that I hold dear. I yield thee back thy gifts again,
Delia, the unkindest girl on earth… When I besought the fair, That favour of intrinsic worth A ringlet of her hair, Refused that instant to comply
The Birds put off their every hue… To dress a room for Montagu. The peacock sends his heavenly dye… His rainbows and his starry eyes; The pheasant plumes, which round e…
Could Homer come himself, distres… And tune his harp at Rhedicina’s… The rich old vixen would exclaim,… ‘Begone! no tramper gets a farthin…
Fond youth! who dream’st that hoar… Is needful not alone to pay For all thy various items sold, To serve the wants of every day; Bread, vinegar, and oil, and meat,