Night Thoughts on Life, Death, and ImmortalityLongman, Orme, and Company; T. Cadell; Baldwin and Cradock; J. G. and F. Rivington; Newman and Company; Whittaker and Company; Sherwood and Company; T. Tegg; ... [and 8 others], 1839 - 280 страница |
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Страница vii
... turn at St. James's , and being unable to gain attention , he sat down , and burst into tears . His conversation was of the same nature as his works , and shewed a solemn cast of thought to be natural to him : death , futurity ...
... turn at St. James's , and being unable to gain attention , he sat down , and burst into tears . His conversation was of the same nature as his works , and shewed a solemn cast of thought to be natural to him : death , futurity ...
Страница 8
... turns , And , his guard falling , crushes him to death . Not happiness herself makes good her name ; Our very wishes give us not our wish . How distant oft the thing we dote on most From that for which we dote , felicity ! The smoothest ...
... turns , And , his guard falling , crushes him to death . Not happiness herself makes good her name ; Our very wishes give us not our wish . How distant oft the thing we dote on most From that for which we dote , felicity ! The smoothest ...
Страница 10
... turns Oft the first instant its idea fair To labouring thought is born . How dim our eye ! The present moment terminates our sight ; Clouds thick as those on doomsday , drown the next ; We penetrate , we prophesy in vain . Time is dealt ...
... turns Oft the first instant its idea fair To labouring thought is born . How dim our eye ! The present moment terminates our sight ; Clouds thick as those on doomsday , drown the next ; We penetrate , we prophesy in vain . Time is dealt ...
Страница 13
... turn my thoughts on thee ; And thine on themes may profit ; profit there Where most thy need : themes , too , the genuine growth Of dear Philander's dust . He thus , though dead , May still befriend - What themes ? Time's wondrous price ...
... turn my thoughts on thee ; And thine on themes may profit ; profit there Where most thy need : themes , too , the genuine growth Of dear Philander's dust . He thus , though dead , May still befriend - What themes ? Time's wondrous price ...
Страница 15
... turning all to gold : This the good heart's prerogative to raise A royal tribute from the poorest hours ; Immense revenue ! every moment pays . If nothing more than purpose in thy power , Thy purpose firm is equal to the deed : Who does ...
... turning all to gold : This the good heart's prerogative to raise A royal tribute from the poorest hours ; Immense revenue ! every moment pays . If nothing more than purpose in thy power , Thy purpose firm is equal to the deed : Who does ...
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adore ambition angels archangels art thou awful beam beneath bids blest bliss blood divine boast book of Job boundless canst creation dæmons dark death deep Deity delight divine dost dread dust E'en earth EDWARD YOUNG endless eternal ethereal ev'ry fate fire flame fond fool gaze give glorious glory grave grief groan guilt happiness heart heav'n Heaven's hope hour human illustrious indulge know'st life's light live Lorenzo man's mankind midnight mighty mind mismeasured mortal Narcissa nature nature's naught ne'er night numbers o'er Omnipotence pain passion peace Philander pleasure pow'r praise pride proud reason rise sacred scene sense shades shew shines sigh sight skies smile song soul immortal sov'reign sphere stars stings storm tempest thee theme thine thought throne thy disease tomb triumph truth virtue virtue's Winchester College wing wisdom wise wonder wretched
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Страница 2 - 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? With the years beyond the flood It is the signal that demands despatch: How much is to be done!
Страница 22 - 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 12 - And why ? Because he thinks himself immortal. All men think all men mortal, but themselves ; Themselves, when some alarming shock of fate Strikes through their wounded hearts the sudden dread : But their hearts wounded, like the wounded air, Soon close ; where pass'd 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 : Even with the tender tear which Nature sheds O'er those we love, we drop...
Страница 18 - The man who consecrates his hours By vigorous effort, and an honest aim, At once he draws the sting of life and death : He walks with nature ; and her paths are peace.
Страница 185 - 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 12 - 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. And why ? Because he thinks himself immortal. All men think all men mortal, but themselves ; Themselves, when some alarming shock of fate Strikes thro...
Страница 3 - It is the signal that demands despatch: How much is to be done! My hopes and fears Start up alarmed, 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 bounties of an hour?
Страница 1 - From short (as usual) and disturb'd repose, I wake : how happy they, who wake no more ! Yet that were vain, if dreams infest the grave. I wake, emerging from a sea of dreams Tumultuous ; where my wreck'd desponding thought, From wave to wave of fancied misery, At random drove, her helm of reason lost.
Страница 17 - To man's false optics (from his folly false) Time, in advance, behind him hides his wings, And seems to creep, decrepit with his age : Behold him, when past by ; what then is seen, But his broad pinions swifter than the winds? And all mankind, in contradiction strong, Rueful, aghast ! cry out on his career.
Страница 38 - Smitten friends Are angels sent on errands full of love; For us they languish, and for us they die : And shall they languish, shall they die, in vain ? Ungrateful, shall we grieve their hovering shades Which wait the revolution in our hearts?