Young's Night Thoughts

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James Nichol, 1853 - 327 страница

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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 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 pinion flies from woe, And lights on lids unsullied with a tear.
Страница 216 - 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 227 - Some angel guide my pencil, while I draw, What nothing less than angel can exceed, A man on earth devoted to the skies; Like ships in seas, while in, above the world. With aspect mild, and elevated eye, Behold him seated on a mount serene, Above the fogs of sense, and passion's storm ; All the black cares and tumults of this life, Like harmless thunders, breaking at his feet, Excite his pity, not impair his peace.
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 32 - 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 61 - 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...

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