This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1853 Excerpt: ...hand, Nor blush to spread the hay, the hook to wield, Or range my sheaves along the sunny land. If late at dusk, while carelessly I roam, I meet a strolling kid, or bleating lamb, Under my arm I'll bring the wanderer home, And not a little chide its thoughtless dam. What joy to hear the tempest howl in vain, And clasp ...
Read More
This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1853 Excerpt: ...hand, Nor blush to spread the hay, the hook to wield, Or range my sheaves along the sunny land. If late at dusk, while carelessly I roam, I meet a strolling kid, or bleating lamb, Under my arm I'll bring the wanderer home, And not a little chide its thoughtless dam. What joy to hear the tempest howl in vain, And clasp a fearful mistress to my breast Or lulled to slumber by the beating rain, Secure and happy, sink at last to rest. Or if the sun in flaming Leo ride, By shady rivers indolently stray, And with my Delia, walking side by side, Hear how they murmur as they glide away. What joy to wind along the cool retreat, To stop and gaze on Delia as I go To mingle sweet discourse with kisses sweet, And teach my lovely scholar all I know Thus pleased at heart, and not with fancy's dream, In silent happiness I rest unknown; Content with what I am, not what I seem, I live for Delia and myself alone. OF MYSELF. BY COWLEY. This only grant me, that my means may lis Too low for envy, for contempt too high. Some honour I would have, Not from great deeds, hut good alone; The unknown are better than ill known--Rumour can ope the grave. IT Acquaintance I would have, but when't depend, Not on the number, but the choice, of friends. Books should, not business, entertain the light, And sleep as undisturbed as death, the night. My house a cottage more Than palace; and should fitting be For all my use, no luxury. My garden painted o'er With Nature's hand, not Art's; and pleasures yield Horace might envy in his Sabine field. Thus would I double my life's fading space; For he, that runs it well, twice runs his race. And in this true delight, These unbought sports, this happy state, I would not fear, nor wish, my fate; But boldly say each night, To-morrow let my sun his beams d...
Read Less
Choose your shipping method in Checkout. Costs may vary based on destination.
Seller's Description:
Fair. 32mo-over 4"-5" tall. 320 pages. Frontispiece. Full embossed gray boards with gilt titles and page edges. pos ffep "James? . Burgess, Old Town, Maine. Minor pencil notations top of ffep. Some foxing and staining on first 20 pages. Rear hinge starting. Faded covers and spine with bumped corners. Corners and in a few places along the top edge are worn through. 22 pages toward end bumped on lower edges. Rear endpaper and previous leaf moisture stained along bottom edge.
