Young's Night Thoughts: With Life, Critical Dissertation, and Explanatory Notes,James Nichol, 1853 - 327 страница |
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Страница xxii
... hours have passed , the flame is sunk in ashes , and the animalcule is gone . So the Heavens shall pass away with a great noise . They shall perish , but Thou God remainest ; nay , thou Man , too , art destined to sur- vive this ...
... hours have passed , the flame is sunk in ashes , and the animalcule is gone . So the Heavens shall pass away with a great noise . They shall perish , but Thou God remainest ; nay , thou Man , too , art destined to sur- vive this ...
Страница xxvi
... hours How often I repeat their rage divine , To lull my griefs , and steal my heart from woe ! I roll their raptures , but not catch their fire , Dark , though not blind , like thee , Mæonides ! Or , Milton ! thee ; ah , could I reach ...
... hours How often I repeat their rage divine , To lull my griefs , and steal my heart from woe ! I roll their raptures , but not catch their fire , Dark , though not blind , like thee , Mæonides ! Or , Milton ! thee ; ah , could I reach ...
Страница 7
... hours : 49 Where are they ? With the years beyond the flood . 60 It is the signal that demands despatch : How much is ... hour ? How poor , how rich , how abject , how august , How complicate , how wonderful , is man ! How passing wonder ...
... hours : 49 Where are they ? With the years beyond the flood . 60 It is the signal that demands despatch : How much is ... hour ? How poor , how rich , how abject , how august , How complicate , how wonderful , is man ! How passing wonder ...
Страница 11
... hour ; And rarely for the better ; or the best , More mortal than the common births of fate . Each moment has its sickle , emulous Of Time's enormous scythe , whose ample sweep Strikes empires from the root ; each moment plays His ...
... hour ; And rarely for the better ; or the best , More mortal than the common births of fate . Each moment has its sickle , emulous Of Time's enormous scythe , whose ample sweep Strikes empires from the root ; each moment plays His ...
Страница 12
... hour , How widow'd every thought of every joy ! Thought , busy thought ! too busy for my peace ! Through the dark postern of time long lapsed , Led softly , by the stillness of the night , Led , like a murderer , ( and such it proves ...
... hour , How widow'd every thought of every joy ! Thought , busy thought ! too busy for my peace ! Through the dark postern of time long lapsed , Led softly , by the stillness of the night , Led , like a murderer , ( and such it proves ...
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adore ambition angels archangels art thou awful beam beneath bids bless'd bliss blood divine boast boundless Busiris call'd charms creation dark death deep Deity delight divine dost dread dust earth EDWARD YOUNG endless eternal ethereal fair fate fire flame fond fool gaze genius give glorious glory gods grave grief guilt happiness 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 strange tempest thee theme thine thought throne thy disease tomb triumph truth virtue virtue's Voltaire wing wisdom wise wonder wretched ye stars 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 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...