Alfred An Heroic Poem, in Twenty-Four Books. By Joseph Cottle: 4th ed. |
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Alfred | ||
Whilst in his wicker chair, with heart entranced,
The woodman listen'd, every note awaked
Sweet recollections, calling up the thought
Of days, long pass'd, when, with that harp, his son
Beguiled the evening hour, by pouring forth
Amid the calm consoling quiet round,
Songs to His praise,—the bounteous Lord of All!
The woodman listen'd, every note awaked
Sweet recollections, calling up the thought
Of days, long pass'd, when, with that harp, his son
Beguiled the evening hour, by pouring forth
Amid the calm consoling quiet round,
Songs to His praise,—the bounteous Lord of All!
Alfred | ||