The Works of the English Poets: With Prefaces, Biographical and Critical, Volume 51, Page 2 |
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ambition angels beneath bids bliſs born cauſe charms dark darkneſs dead death deep Deity divine dread dream duſt earth eternal fail fair fall fate fear feel figh fire firſt fool fortune foul future gain give glory grave grief guilt hand happineſs hear heart heaven hope hour human immortal juſt leave leſs life's light live look Lorenzo man's mankind mean mind mortal moſt muſt nature nature's never night nought o'er once pain peace pleaſure poor praiſe preſent pride proud reaſon rich riſe round ſcene ſee ſenſe ſhall ſhines ſhould ſkies ſmile ſome ſong ſoul ſtill ſtrong ſuch ſun thee theme theſe thine things thoſe thou thought throne tomb triumph true truth turn virtue whoſe wing wiſdom wiſe wiſh wonders wretched
Popular passages
Page 38 - The chamber where the good man meets his fate, Is privileg'd beyond the common walk Of virtuous life, quite in the verge of heaven.
Page 3 - 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.
Page 30 - 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.
Page 144 - Its tenure sure ; its income is divine. High-built abundance, heap on heap ! for what ? To breed new wants, and beggar us the more ; Then, make a richer scramble for the throng...
Page 247 - All the black cares and tumults of this life, Like harmless thunders, breaking at his feet, Excite his pity, not impair his peace.
Page 60 - Death's tremendous blow. 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.
Page 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 1 feel the solemn sound.
Page 2 - Fate! drop the curtain; I can lose no more. Silence and Darkness! solemn sisters! twins From ancient Night, who nurse the tender thought To reason, and on reason build resolve...
Page 50 - Our dying friends come o'er us like a cloud, To damp our brainless ardours, and abate That glare of life which often blinds the wise. Our dying friends are pioneers, to smooth...
Page 78 - Though yet unsung, as deem'd, perhaps, too bold ? Angels are men of a superior kind ; Angels are men in lighter habit clad, High o'er celestial mountains wing'd in flight ; And men are angels, loaded for an hour, Who wade this miry vale, and climb with pain, And slippery step, the bottom of the steep.