Poems Descriptive Of Rural Life And Scenery (1820) (e-book) (used book) | bookbook.eu

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This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can usually download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1820 edition. Excerpt: ... TO RELIGION. Thou sacred light, that right from wrong discerns; Thou safeguard of the soul, thou heaven on earth; Thou undervaluer of the world's concerns, Thou disregarder of its joys and mirth; Thou only home the houseless wanderers have; Thou prop by which the pilgrim's woes are borne; Thou solace of the lonely hermit's cave, That beds him down to rest on fate's sharp thorn; Thou only hope to sorrow's bosom given; Thou voice of mercy when the weary call; Thou faith extending to thy home in heaven; Thou peace, thou rest, thou comfort, all in all: O sovereign good! on thee all hopes depend, Till thy grand source unfolds its realizing end. ANXIETY. One, o'er heaths wandering in a pitch dark night, Making to sounds that hope some village near; Hermit, retreating to a chinky light, Long lost in winding cavern dark and drear; A slave, long banish'd from his country dear, By freedom left to seek his native plains; A soldier, absent many a long, long year, In sight of home ere he that comfort gains; A thirsty labouring wight, that wistful strains O'er the steep hanging bank to reach the stream; A hope, delay so lingeringly detains, We still on point of its disclosure seem: These pictures weakly 'semble to the eye A faint existence of Anxiety. EXPECTATION. When Expectation in the bosom heaves, What longing, anxious views disturb the mind; What fears, what hopes, distrust and then believe That something which the heart expects to find! How the poor prisoner, ere he's doom'd to die, Within his gloomy cell of dreary woe, How does he watch, with Expectation's eye, The lingering, long suspense of fate to know. Alas, poor soul! though different bonds confine; The walls his prison is, the world is mine: So do I turn my weary eyes above, So do I look...