The Boston Miscellany of Literature and Fashion, Volume 1, Issues 1-6

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Bradbury, Soden & Company, 1842
 

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Page 219 - THE BUCKET. When fond recollection presents them to view ! The orchard, the meadow, the deep tangled wild wood, How dear to this heart are the scenes of my childhood, The bridge, and the rock where the cataract fell ; The cot of my father, the dairy-house nigh it, And every loved spot which my infancy knew; The
Page 219 - m the well ! The old oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket, The moss-covered bucket which hung in the well. That moss-covered vessel I hail as a treasure ; For often, at noon, when returned from the field, I found it the source of an exquisite pleasure, The purest and sweetest that nature can yield.
Page 219 - The bridge, and the rock where the cataract fell ; The cot of my father, the dairy-house nigh it, And every loved spot which my infancy knew; The wide-spreading pond, and the mill which stood by it, And e'en the rude bucket which hung
Page 219 - loved situation, As poised on the curb it inclined to my lips ! Not a full blushing goblet could tempt me to leave it, The tear of regret will intrusively swell, As fancy reverts to my father's plantation, And sighs for the bucket which hangs in the well : The old oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket, The moss-covered bucket which hangs in the well.
Page 57 - finger up, As though she said " beware! " — And on her brow, fairer than alabaster, A coronet of pearls. But then her face So lovely, yet so arch, so full of mirth, The overflowings of an innocent heart, It haunts me still, though many a year has fled, Like some wild
Page 254 - freely ranging within the zodiac of his own wit. Nature never set forth the earth in so rich tapestry as divers poets have done; neither with so pleasant rivers, fruitful trees, sweet smelling flowers, nor whatever else may make the
Page 256 - that it pleased the heavenly Deity by Hesiod and Homer, under the veil of fables, to give us all knowledge, logick, rhetoric, philosophy natural and moral, and quid non ? To believe with me, that there are many mysteries contained in poetry, which of purpose were written darkly, lest by profane wits it should be abused ; to
Page 219 - hung in the well. That moss-covered vessel I hail as a treasure ; For often, at noon, when returned from the field, I found it the source of an exquisite pleasure, The purest and sweetest that nature can yield.
Page 255 - and old men from the chimney corner; and pretending no more, doth intend the winning of the mind from wickedness to virtue; even as the child is often brought to take most wholesome things by hiding
Page 169 - Let the pealing organ blow, To the full-voiced quire below, In service high and anthems clear, As may with sweetness, through mine ear, Dissolve me into

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