The Works, in Verse and Prose, of William Shenstone, Esq;: In Three Volumes. With Decorations.., Volume 1

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J. Dodsley in Pall-mall, 1777
 

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Pagina 294 - And pungent radish, biting infant's tongue ; And plantain ribb'd, that heals the reaper's '.• wound; And marj'ram sweet, in shepherd's posie found; And lavender, whose spikes of azure bloom Shall be, erewhile, in arid bundles bound, To lurk amidst the labours of her loom, And crown her kerchiefs clean, with mickle rare , perfume.
Pagina 158 - I have found out a gift for my fair; I have found where the wood-pigeons breed; But let me that plunder forbear, She will say 'twas a barbarous deed...
Pagina 291 - Though now so wide its waving branches flow And work the simple vassals mickle woe; For not a wind might curl the leaves that blew. But their limbs shudder'd, and their pulse beat low, And as they look'd, they found their horror grew, And shap'd it into rods, and tingled at the view.
Pagina 297 - She sees no kind domestic visage near, And soon a flood of tears begins to flow ; And gives a loose at last to unavailing woe. But ah ! what pen his piteous plight may trace ? Or what device his loud laments explain...
Pagina 292 - ... green, On which the tribe their gambols do display ; And at the door...
Pagina 299 - Tho now he crawl along the ground so low, Nor weeting how the Muse should soar on high, Wisheth, poor starv'ling elf! his paper-kite may fly. And this perhaps, who, cens'ring the design, Low lays the house which that of cards doth build, Shall DENNIS be! if rigid fates incline, And many an Epic to his rage shall yield; And many a poet quit th...
Pagina 156 - I fed on the smiles of my dear? They tell me, my favourite maid, The pride of that valley, is flown; Alas ! where with her I have stray'd, I could wander with pleasure, alone.
Pagina 293 - Twas her own country bred the flock so fair ; 'Twas her own labour did the fleece prepare...
Pagina 158 - twas a barbarous deed. For he ne'er could be true, she averr'd, Who could rob a poor bird of its young ; And I lov'd her the more, when I heard Such tenderness fall from her tongue.
Pagina 158 - With the lilac to render it gay ! Already it calls for my love To prune the wild branches away. From the plains, from the woodlands and groves. What strains of wild melody flow!

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