Robert Bloomfield

“Lights glimmered on the hills, and through the dale; And each companion told his favourite tale.”

“The dwindling brooks are streams no more.”

“Banish winter, banish sorrow, To the winds that dreary blow; Court the beams of bright to-morrow.”

“Sweet was the sound, when oft, at evening's close, Up yonder hill the village murmur rose.”

“No flocks that range the valley free, To slaughter I condemn; Taught by the power that pities me, I learn to pity them.”

“O come, blest Spirit! whatsoe'er thou art, Thou rushing warmth that hover'st round my heart.”

“Where's the foe that would disturb our quiet?”

“The man of science himself is fonder of glory, and vain of popular applause, than the ignorant herdboy.”

“Friendship's the wine of life.”

“Welcome, wild Northeaster! Shame it is to see Odes to every zephyr; ne'er a line to thee.”

“Sweet inmate, hail! thou source of sterling joy, That poverty itself cannot destroy.”

“Henceforth, inspired, I'll bliss thy due, And make my tongue the pen of praise.”