The Works of the Author of The Night-thoughts, Том 2F. and C. Rivington, 1802 |
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... hour , And give at length my famish'd soul revenge ! What is revenge , but courage to call in Our honour's debts , and wisdom to convert Others ' self - love into our own protection ? But see the morning ray breaks in upon us ; I'll ...
... hour , And give at length my famish'd soul revenge ! What is revenge , but courage to call in Our honour's debts , and wisdom to convert Others ' self - love into our own protection ? But see the morning ray breaks in upon us ; I'll ...
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... hour . ZANGA . What , not a vessel sav'd ? MANUEL . All , all , the storm Devour'd ; and now , o'er his late envy'd fortune , The dolphins bound , and wat'ry mountains roar , Triumphant in his ruin . ZANGA . Is Alvarez Determin❜d to ...
... hour . ZANGA . What , not a vessel sav'd ? MANUEL . All , all , the storm Devour'd ; and now , o'er his late envy'd fortune , The dolphins bound , and wat'ry mountains roar , Triumphant in his ruin . ZANGA . Is Alvarez Determin❜d to ...
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... hour ? I am ill - us'd , my lord ; I must not bear it . Why , when I woo your hand , it is deny'd me ? Your very eyes , why are they taught to shun me ? Nay , my good lord , I have a title here ; [ Taking his hand- And I will have it ...
... hour ? I am ill - us'd , my lord ; I must not bear it . Why , when I woo your hand , it is deny'd me ? Your very eyes , why are they taught to shun me ? Nay , my good lord , I have a title here ; [ Taking his hand- And I will have it ...
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... hour : Love was her errand , but the hot - brain'd Spaniard , Instead of Love - produc'd a filthy Poniard : - Had he been wise at this their private meeting , The proof o ' th ' Pudding had been in the Eating : Madam had then been pleas ...
... hour : Love was her errand , but the hot - brain'd Spaniard , Instead of Love - produc'd a filthy Poniard : - Had he been wise at this their private meeting , The proof o ' th ' Pudding had been in the Eating : Madam had then been pleas ...
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... hour ! Then throw my carcase to the dogs of Rome . ANTIGONUS . Sir , you forget your sons . KING . Let all withdraw . [ Exeunt all but the King and his sons . Two passions only take up all my soul ; Hatred to Rome , and tenderness for ...
... hour ! Then throw my carcase to the dogs of Rome . ANTIGONUS . Sir , you forget your sons . KING . Let all withdraw . [ Exeunt all but the King and his sons . Two passions only take up all my soul ; Hatred to Rome , and tenderness for ...
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Чести термини и фразе
ALONZO Alvarez ambition angels ANTIGONUS art thou beneath bleeds blest bliss blood blood divine bosom brother call'd crime dæmon dare darkness dead death DEMETRIUS deny'd despair divine Don Carlos dreadful dust DYMAS earth empire ERIXENE eternal Ev'n ev'ry Exit fair fate father fear flame fond fool gaze give glory gods good-natur'd grave grief groan guilt happiness hast hear heart heav'n hope hour human immortal ISABELLA KING LEONORA life's lord LORENZO Macedon mortal NARCISSA nature nature's ne'er night numbers o'er pain pangs passion peace PERICLES PERSEUS Philip POSTHUMIUS pow'r praise pride rage reason rise Rome sacred scene shew sigh skies smile song soul speak strike tears thee theme thine thought Thrace Thracian thro throne tomb tremble triumph truth Twas Twill vengeance virtue weep wing wisdom wise wounds wretched ZANGA
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Страница 223 - 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 222 - 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 238 - Whose work is done ; who triumphs in the past ; Whose yesterdays look backwards with a smile ; Nor, like the Parthian, wound him as they fly ; That common, but opprobrious lot ! past hours, If not by guilt, yet wound us by their flight, If folly bounds our prospect by the grave...
Страница 218 - Want, and incurable disease, (fell pair!) On hopeless multitudes remorseless seize At once, and make a refuge of the grave. How groaning hospitals eject their dead ! What numbers groan for sad admission there ! What numbers, once in Fortune's lap high-fed, Solicit the cold hand of Charity ! To shock us more, solicit it in vain ! Ye silken sons of Pleasure ! since in pains You rue more modish visits, visit here, And breathe from your debauch: give, and reduce Surfeit's dominion o'er you. But so great...
Страница 211 - 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 ? How poor, how rich, how abject, how august, How complicate, how wonderful is man...
Страница 366 - Horrid with frost, and turbulent with storm, Blows autumn, and his golden fruits, away: Then melts into the spring : soft spring, with breath Favonian, from warm chambers of the south, Recalls the first. All, to re-flourish, fades ; As in a wheel, all sinks, to re-ascend. Emblems of man, who passes, not expires. With this minute distinction, emblems just, Nature revolves, but man advances ; both Eternal ; that a circle, this a line. That gravitates, this soars. Th' aspiring soul, Ardent, and tremulous,...
Страница 286 - Oh tell me, mighty mind ! Where art thou ? Shall I dive into the deep ? Call to the sun, or ask the roaring winds, For their creator ? Shall I question loud The thunder, if in that th...
Страница 276 - Why all this toil for triumphs of an hour ? What though we wade in wealth, or soar in fame ? Earth's highest station ends in, " Here he lies," And " Dust to dust
Страница 217 - Nor yet put forth her wings to reach the skies! Night visions may befriend (as sung above): Our waking dreams are fatal. How I dreamt Of things impossible! (could sleep do more?) Of joys perpetual in perpetual change! Of stable pleasures on the tossing wave! Eternal sunshine in the storms of life!
Страница 93 - If cold white mortals censure this great deed, Warn them, they judge not of superior beings, Souls made of fire, and children of the sun, With whom Revenge is virtue.