The Bee: A Selection of Poetry

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J. Gough, 1796 - English poetry - 191 pages

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Page 44 - If I am right, thy grace impart, Still in the right to stay; If I am wrong, oh teach my heart To find that better way...
Page 102 - Who God doth late and early pray, More of his grace than gifts to lend, And entertains the harmless day, With a religious book or friend. This man is freed from servile bands Of hope to rise, or fear to fall ; Lord of himself, though not of lands, And having nothing, yet hath all.
Page 45 - Warms in the sun, refreshes in the breeze, Glows in the stars, and blossoms in the trees : Lives through all life, extends through all extent, Spreads undivided, operates unspent...
Page 51 - Fairest of stars, last in the train of night, If better thou belong not to the dawn, Sure pledge of day, that crown'st the smiling morn With thy bright circlet, praise Him in thy sphere, While day arises, that sweet hour of prime.
Page 29 - THESE, as they change, ALMIGHTY FATHER, these Are but the varied God. The rolling year Is full of THEE. Forth in the pleasing Spring THY beauty walks, THY tenderness and love. Wide flush the fields ; the softening air is balm ; Echo the mountains round ; the forest smiles ; And every sense, and every heart is joy. Then comes THY glory in the Summer months, With light and heat refulgent.
Page 58 - Ordain'd by thee ; and this delicious place For us too large, where thy abundance wants Partakers, and uncropt falls to the ground. But thou hast promis'd from us two a race To fill the earth, who shall with us extol Thy goodness infinite, both when we wake, And when we seek, as now, thy gift...
Page 10 - I would not have a slave to till my ground, To carry me, to fan me while I sleep, And tremble when I wake, for all the wealth That sinews bought and sold have ever earn'd.
Page 154 - The crackling faggot flies. But nothing could a charm impart To soothe the stranger's woe; For grief was heavy at his heart, And tears began to flow. His rising cares the Hermit spied, With answering care opprest : " And whence, unhappy youth," he cried, " The sorrows of thy breast ? " From better habitations spurn'd, Reluctant dost thou rove?
Page 41 - Obvious her goods, in no extreme they dwell; There needs but thinking right, and meaning well ; And mourn our various portions as we please, Equal is common sense, and common ease. Remember, man, the universal cause Acts not by partial, but by gen'ral laws ; And makes what happiness we justly call Subsist not in the good of one, but all.
Page 49 - Delightful task! to rear the tender thought, To teach the young idea how to shoot...

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