The complaint; or, Night thoughts, on life, death, and immortality. [Followed by] A paraphrase on part of the book of Job. With the life of the author [signed G.W.].Thomas Tegg, 1815 - 312 страница |
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Страница 25
... guilt , yet wound us by their flight , If folly bounds our prospect by the grave , All feeling of futurity benumb'd ; All god - like passion for eternals quench'd ; All relish of realities expir'd ; Renounc'd all correspondence with the ...
... guilt , yet wound us by their flight , If folly bounds our prospect by the grave , All feeling of futurity benumb'd ; All god - like passion for eternals quench'd ; All relish of realities expir'd ; Renounc'd all correspondence with the ...
Страница 41
... guilt ? What guilt Can equal E 3 NIGHT THE THIRD . 41 And on a foreign shore; where strangers wept ! ...
... guilt ? What guilt Can equal E 3 NIGHT THE THIRD . 41 And on a foreign shore; where strangers wept ! ...
Страница 42
Edward Young. Glows my resentment into guilt ? What guilt Can equal violations of the dead ? The dead how sacred ! Sacred is the dust Of this heav'n - labour'd form , erect , divine ! This heav'n - assum'd majestic robe of earth , He ...
Edward Young. Glows my resentment into guilt ? What guilt Can equal violations of the dead ? The dead how sacred ! Sacred is the dust Of this heav'n - labour'd form , erect , divine ! This heav'n - assum'd majestic robe of earth , He ...
Страница 44
... guilt . Our dying friends come o'er us like a cloud , To damp our brainless ardors ; and abate That glare of life , which often blinds the wise . Our dying friends are pioneers , to smooth Our rugged pass to death ! to break those bars ...
... guilt . Our dying friends come o'er us like a cloud , To damp our brainless ardors ; and abate That glare of life , which often blinds the wise . Our dying friends are pioneers , to smooth Our rugged pass to death ! to break those bars ...
Страница 48
... guilt interposes , lab'ring earth , O'ershadow'd , mourns a deep eclipse of joy ; Her joys , at brightest , pallid to that font Of full effulgent glory , whence they flow . Nor is that glory distant : Oh LORENZO ! A good man , and an ...
... guilt interposes , lab'ring earth , O'ershadow'd , mourns a deep eclipse of joy ; Her joys , at brightest , pallid to that font Of full effulgent glory , whence they flow . Nor is that glory distant : Oh LORENZO ! A good man , and an ...
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The Complaint; Or, Night-thoughts on Life, Death, and Immortality. With A ... Edward Young Приказ није доступан - 2018 |
The Complaint: Or, Night Thoughts, on Life, Death, and Immortality ... Edward Young Приказ није доступан - 2016 |
The Complaint; Or, Night-Thoughts on Life, Death, and Immortality. with a ... EDWARD. YOUNG Приказ није доступан - 2018 |
Чести термини и фразе
ambition angels art thou beam beneath bids blest bliss blood divine boast book of Job boundless call'd canst chimæra creation dæmons dark death deep Deity delight deny'd divine dost dread dust EARL OF LITCHFIELD earth EDWARD YOUNG endless eternal Ev'n ev'ry fate flame fond fool give glorious glory gods grave grief groan guilt happiness heart heav'n hope hour human illustrious infidels know'st life's light live LORENZO man's mankind midnight mighty mind mortal NARCISSA nature nature's ne'er night Night Thoughts nought numbers o'er Omnipotence pain passion peace pleasure pow'r praise pride proud reason rise sacred scene sense shades shines sigh sight skies smile song soul immortal sphere stars storm thee theme thine thought throne thy disease tomb tremble triumph truth virtue virtue's Winchester college wing wisdom wise wish wonder wretched ye stars
Популарни одломци
Страница 3 - 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 3 - How poor, how rich, how abject, how august, How complicate, how wonderful, is man!
Страница 13 - Fate Strikes through their wounded hearts the sudden dread: But their hearts wounded, like the wounded air, Soon close ; where past 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 it in their grave.
Страница 6 - The spider's most attenuated thread Is cord, is cable, to man's tender tie On earthly bliss ; it breaks at every breeze.
Страница 4 - A worm ! a God ! — I tremble at myself, And in myself am lost. At home -a, stranger, Thought wanders up and down, surprised, aghast, And wondering at her own. How Reason reels ! O what a miracle to man is man ! Triumphantly distress'd ! what joy!
Страница 288 - When tired with vain rotations of the day, Sleep winds us up for the succeeding dawn ; Fresh we spin on, till sickness clogs our wheels, Or death quite breaks the spring, and motion ends.
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 54 - The world's a stately bark, on dang'rous seas, With pleasure seen, but boarded at our peril; Here, on a single plank, thrown safe ashore, I hear the tumult of the distant throng, As that of seas remote, or dying storms : And meditate on scenes, more silent still ; Pursue my theme, and fight the Fear of Death.
Страница 4 - This is the desert, this the solitude : How populous, how vital, is the grave ! This is creation's melancholy vault, The vale funereal, the sad cypress gloom : The land of apparitions, empty shades ! All, all on earth is shadow, all beyond Is substance ; the reverse is folly's creed...
Страница 247 - One sun by day, by night ten thousand shine ; And light us deep into the Deity ; How boundless in magnificence and might! O what a confluence of ethereal fires, From urns unnumber'd, down the steep of heaven, Streams to a point, and centres in my sight! Nor tarries there; I feel it at my heart. My heart, at once, it humbles, and exalts ; Lays it in dust, and calls it to the skies.