Young's Night thoughts. With life, critcal diss., and explanatory notes, by G. Gilfillan, 130. стр.1853 |
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Страница 6
... o'er a slumbering world . Silence , how dead ! and darkness , how profound ! Nor eye , nor listening ear , an object finds ; Creation sleeps . " Tis as the general pulse Of life stood still , and nature made a pause ; An awful pause ...
... o'er a slumbering world . Silence , how dead ! and darkness , how profound ! Nor eye , nor listening ear , an object finds ; Creation sleeps . " Tis as the general pulse Of life stood still , and nature made a pause ; An awful pause ...
Страница 6
... o'er a slumbering world . Silence , how dead ! and darkness , how profound ! Nor eye , nor listening ear , an object finds ; Creation sleeps . " Tis as the general pulse Of life stood still , and nature made a pause ; An awful pause ...
... o'er a slumbering world . Silence , how dead ! and darkness , how profound ! Nor eye , nor listening ear , an object finds ; Creation sleeps . " Tis as the general pulse Of life stood still , and nature made a pause ; An awful pause ...
Страница 7
... 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 bounties of an hour ? How poor , how rich , how abject , how august , How ...
... 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 bounties of an hour ? How poor , how rich , how abject , how august , How ...
Страница 8
... o'er my limbs sleep's soft dominion spread , What though my soul fantastic measures trod O'er fairy fields ; or mourn'd along the gloom Of pathless woods ; or down the craggy steep Hurl'd headlong , swam with pain the mantled pool ; Or ...
... o'er my limbs sleep's soft dominion spread , What though my soul fantastic measures trod O'er fairy fields ; or mourn'd along the gloom Of pathless woods ; or down the craggy steep Hurl'd headlong , swam with pain the mantled pool ; Or ...
Страница 10
... o'er With soft conceit of endless comfort here , Nor yet put forth her wings to reach the skies ! Night - visions may befriend ( as sung above ) : Our waking dreams are fatal . How I dream'd Of things impossible ! ( could sleep do more ...
... o'er With soft conceit of endless comfort here , Nor yet put forth her wings to reach the skies ! Night - visions may befriend ( as sung above ) : Our waking dreams are fatal . How I dream'd Of things impossible ! ( could sleep do more ...
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Young's Night Thoughts. with Life, Critcal Diss., and Explanatory Notes, by ... Edward Young Приказ није доступан - 2016 |
Young's Night Thoughts. With Life, Critcal Diss., and Explanatory Notes, by ... Edward Young Приказ није доступан - 2019 |
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adore ambition angels art thou awful beam beneath bids bless'd bliss blood divine boast boundless Busiris call'd charms creation dark death deep Deity divine dost dread dream dust earth EDWARD YOUNG endless eternal ethereal fair fate fire flame fond fool genius give glorious glory grave grief guilt happiness hard alternative heart heaven hope hour human illustrious indulge infidels life's light live Lorenzo man's mankind midnight mind mismeasured mortal Narcissa nature nature's ne'er night Night Thoughts nought numbers o'er Omnipotence orbs pain passions peace Philander pleasure praise pride proud rapture reason rise sacred scene sense shines sigh sight skies smile song soul immortal sphere stars stings storm strong tempest thee theme thine thought throne thy disease tomb triumph truth virtue Virtue's Voltaire wing wisdom wise wish wonder wretched Young
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Страница 18 - Unanxious for ourselves, and only wish As duteous sons, our fathers were more wise. At thirty man suspects himself a fool ; Knows it at forty, and reforms his plan ; At fifty chides his infamous delay, Pushes his prudent purpose to resolve; In all the magnanimity of thought Resolves and re-resolves; then dies the same.
Страница 17 - 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 7 - The bell strikes one. 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?
Страница 212 - Each branch of piety delight inspires ; Faith builds a bridge from this world to the next, O'er death's dark gulf, and all its horror hides ; Praise, the sweet exhalation of our joy, That joy exalts, and makes it sweeter still ; Prayer ardent opens heaven, lets down a stream Of glory on the consecrated hour Of man, in audience with the Deity.
Страница 6 - Silence and darkness ! solemn sisters! twins From ancient night, who nurse the tender thought! To reason, and on reason build resolve (That column of true majesty in man,) Assist me : I will thank you in the grave ; The grave, your kingdom : there this frame shall fall A victim sacred to your dreary shrine.
Страница 6 - Tis as the general pulse Of life stood still, and nature made a pause, An awful pause ! prophetic of her end.
Страница 34 - 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.
Страница 67 - The knell, the shroud, the mattock, and the grave ; The deep damp vault, the darkness, and the worm ; These are the bugbears of a winter's eve, The terrors of the living, not the dead. Imagination's fool, and error's wretch, Man makes a death, which nature never made : Then on the point of his own fancy falls ; And feels a thousand deaths, in fearing one.
Страница 17 - Of man's miraculous mistakes, this bears The palm, " That all men are about to live," For ever on the brink of being born. All pay themselves the compliment to think They one day shall not drivel : and their pride On this reversion takes up ready praise ; At least, their own ; their future selves...
Страница 10 - And is it in the flight of threescore years To push eternity from human thought, And smother souls immortal in the dust? A soul immortal, spending all her fires, Wasting her strength in strenuous idleness, Thrown into tumult, raptur'd, or alarm'd At aught this scene can threaten or indulge, Resembles ocean into tempest wrought, To waft a feather, or to drown a fly.