The springs of Plynlimmon: a poem, with copious notes

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William Parke, 1834
 

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Seite 117 - For which the shepherds at their festivals Carol her goodness loud in rustic lays, And throw sweet garland wreaths into her stream Of pansies, pinks, and gaudy daffodils.
Seite 117 - Listen for dear honour's sake, Goddess of the silver lake, Listen, and save. Listen, and appear to us, In name of great Oceanus; By the earth-shaking Neptune's mace, And Tethys' grave majestic pace; By hoary Nereus' wrinkled look, And the Carpathian wizard's hook; By scaly Triton's winding shell, And old sooth-saying Glaucus' spell; By Leucothea's lovely hands, And her son that rules the strands ; By Thetis...
Seite 152 - And the angel which I saw stand upon the sea and upon the earth lifted up his hand to heaven, and sware by him that liveth for ever and ever, who created heaven, and the things that therein are, and the earth, and the things that therein are, and the sea, and the things which are therein, that there should be time no longer...
Seite 87 - I saw young Harry, with his beaver on, His cuisses on his thighs, gallantly arm'd, Rise from the ground like feather'd Mercury, And vaulted with such ease into his seat As if an angel dropp'd down from the clouds, To turn and wind a fiery Pegasus, And witch the world with noble horsemanship.
Seite 117 - Sabrina fair, Listen where thou art sitting Under the glassy, cool, translucent wave, In twisted braids of lilies knitting The loose train of thy amber-dropping hair: Listen for dear honor's sake, Goddess of the silver lake; Listen, and save ! Listen, and appear to us, In name of great Oceanus; By the earth-shaking Neptune's mace, And Tethys...
Seite 118 - Of turkis blue, and emerald green, That in the channel strays; Whilst from off the waters fleet Thus I set my printless feet O'er the cowslip's velvet head, That bends not as I tread.
Seite 118 - Wherewith she sits on diamond rocks, Sleeking her soft alluring locks, By all the nymphs that nightly dance Upon thy streams with wily glance, Rise, rise, and heave thy rosy head From thy coral-paven bed, And bridle in thy headlong wave, Till thou our summons answered have.
Seite 116 - There is a gentle nymph not far from hence, That with moist curb sways the smooth Severn stream, Sabrina is her name, a virgin pure ; Whilome she was the daughter of Locrine, That had the sceptre from his father Brute.
Seite 99 - He could feel, and he burst into tears. The lessons of Prudence have charms, And slighted, may lead to distress ; But the man whom Benevolence warms, Is an angel who lives but to bless. If ever man merited fame, If ever man's failings went free, Forgot at the sound of his name, Our Morris of Persfield was he.
Seite 134 - shine as the brightness of the firmament, and as the stars for ever and ever.

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