The Complaint: Or, Night-thoughts on Life, Death, and Immortality: To which is Added, a Paraphrase on Part of the Book of Job..

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A. Millar and T. Cadell, ... and J. Dodsley, 1768 - 315 страница

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Страница 20 - Youth is not rich in time ; it may be poor ; Part with it as with money, sparing ; pay No moment, but in purchase of its worth ; And what its worth ask death-beds ; they can tell.
Страница 7 - We take no note of time But from its loss. To give it then a tongue Is wise in man. As if an angel spoke, I feel the solemn sound. If heard aright, It is the knell of my departed hours : Where are they ? With the years beyond the flood. It is the signal that demands despatch : How much is to be done? My hopes and fears Start up alarm'd, and o'er life's narrow verge Look down — on what ? a fathomless abyss, A dread eternity ! how surely mine ! And can eternity belong to me, Poor pensioner on the...
Страница 16 - tis madness to defer: Next day the fatal precedent will plead ; Thus on, till wisdom is push'd out of life. Procrastination is the thief of time ; Year after year it steals, till all are fled, And to the mercies of a moment leaves The vast concerns of an eternal scene.
Страница 215 - While party-colour'd shreds of happiness, With hideous gaps between, patch up for them A madman's robe; each puff of fortune blows The tatters by, and shows their nakedness.
Страница 70 - Religion's All. Descending from the skies To wretched man, the goddess in her left Holds out this world, and, in her right, the next...
Страница 40 - Sweet harmonist ! and beautiful as sweet ! And young as beautiful ! and soft as young ! And gay as soft ! and innocent as gay ! And happy (if aught happy here) as good!
Страница 17 - Strikes thro' their wounded hearts the sudden dread; But their hearts wounded, like the wounded air, Soon close ; where past the shaft, no trace is found. As from the wing no scar the sky retains ; The parted wave no furrow from the keel ; So dies in human hearts the thought of death.
Страница 5 - TIRED Nature's sweet restorer, balmy Sleep! He, like the world, his ready visit pays Where fortune smiles; the wretched he forsakes: Swift on his downy pinions flies from woe, And lights on lids unsullied with a tear.
Страница 172 - Who would not give a trifle to prevent What he would give a thousand worlds to cure ? Lorenzo ! thou hast seen (if thine to see) All Nature and her GOD (by Nature's course, And Nature's course controll'd) declare for me. The skies above proclaim ' immortal man !' And ' man immortal !
Страница 28 - Tis greatly wise to talk with our past hours ; And ask them, what report they bore to heaven ; And how they might have borne more welcome news.

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