The grave, a poem. To which are added An elegy in a country church-yard, by Gray. Death, a poem, by bishop Porteus [&c.].1804 |
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Side 12
... mean'st thou then , O mighty boaster To vaunt of nerves of thing ? What means the bull , Unconscious of his strength , to play the coward , And , flee before a feeble thing like man ; That knowing well the slackness of his arm , Trusts ...
... mean'st thou then , O mighty boaster To vaunt of nerves of thing ? What means the bull , Unconscious of his strength , to play the coward , And , flee before a feeble thing like man ; That knowing well the slackness of his arm , Trusts ...
Side 17
... means This stinted charity ? ' tis but lame kindness That does its work by halves . Why might you not Tell us what ' tis to die ? Do the strict laws Of your society forbid your speaking Upon a point so nice ? I'll ask no more ; Sullen ...
... means This stinted charity ? ' tis but lame kindness That does its work by halves . Why might you not Tell us what ' tis to die ? Do the strict laws Of your society forbid your speaking Upon a point so nice ? I'll ask no more ; Sullen ...
Side 20
... mean ; The supple statesman , and the patriot stern ; The wrecks of nations , and the spoils of time , With all the lumber of six thousand years . Poor man ! how happy once in thy first state ! When yet but warm from thy great Maker's ...
... mean ; The supple statesman , and the patriot stern ; The wrecks of nations , and the spoils of time , With all the lumber of six thousand years . Poor man ! how happy once in thy first state ! When yet but warm from thy great Maker's ...
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... Means to be blest - but finds himself undone . Down the smooth stream of life the stripling darts , Gay as the morn ; bright glows the vernal sky , Hope swells his sails , and passion steers his course , Safe glides his little bark ...
... Means to be blest - but finds himself undone . Down the smooth stream of life the stripling darts , Gay as the morn ; bright glows the vernal sky , Hope swells his sails , and passion steers his course , Safe glides his little bark ...
Side
... means that ruinous roar ? why fail These tott'ring feet ? Earth to its centre feels The Godhead's power , and trembling at his touch Through all its pillars , and in every pore , Hurls to the ground , with one convulsive heave ...
... means that ruinous roar ? why fail These tott'ring feet ? Earth to its centre feels The Godhead's power , and trembling at his touch Through all its pillars , and in every pore , Hurls to the ground , with one convulsive heave ...
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The Grave, a Poem. to Which Are Added an Elegy in a Country Church-Yard, by ... Robert Blair Ingen forhåndsvisning - 2016 |
Almindelige termer og sætninger
Almighty arrow cross beneath Bishop Porteus bleeding blood bloom boast breath catholicons cheek cheer COUNTRY CHURCH-YARD cruel dæmon dark dead dead of night Death deep disarm'd dread drops dust E'en e'er earth endless pains ev'n ev'ry fair fame flatt'ring foul gen'ral gen'rous gentle gloomy groan hand hard hunted hast heart Heav'n honour'd horrors hour immortal song joys life's ling'ring liv'd live look loud mankind mansions Methinks mighty nature ne'er neighbours say night nought o'er Offer'd once pain paths of glory Peace pow'r promis'd proud Robert Blair round rouze rude ruin scarce scatter'd shew sight Smil'd smile sons soon soul sound spoils stamp'd strange stream sudden sweet swoln tale tell thee thick thine thing thou thro tomb twas tyrant vex'd warm weary WESTMINSTER ABBEY Whilst wreck wretch yonder younker youth
Populære passager
Side 29 - For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn, Or busy housewife ply her evening care ; No children run to lisp their sire's return, Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share. Oft did the harvest to their sickle yield, Their furrow oft the stubborn glebe has broke ; How jocund did they drive their team a-field ! How bow'd the woods beneath their sturdy stroke...
Side 32 - Graved on the stone beneath yon aged thorn.' The Epitaph Here rests his head upon the lap of Earth, A youth, to fortune and to fame unknown: Fair science frown'd not on his humble birth, And melancholy mark'd him for her own.
Side 31 - With uncouth rhymes and shapeless sculpture decked, Implores the passing tribute of a sigh. Their name, their years, spelt by the unlettered muse, The place of fame and elegy supply; And many a holy text around she strews, That teach the rustic moralist to die.
Side 29 - Can storied urn or animated bust Back to its mansion call the fleeting breath? Can Honour's voice provoke the silent dust, Or Flattery soothe the dull cold ear of death?
Side 50 - Haply some hoary-headed swain may say, ' Oft have we seen him at the peep of dawn Brushing with hasty steps the dews away To meet the sun upon the upland lawn.
Side 50 - The place of fame and elegy supply : And many a holy text around she strews That teach the rustic moralist to die. For who, to dumb forgetfulness a prey, This pleasing anxious being e'er...
Side 50 - There at the foot of yonder nodding beech That wreathes its old fantastic roots so high, His listless length at noontide would he stretch, And pore upon the brook that babbles by.
Side 31 - Forbade to wade through slaughter to a throne, And shut the gates of mercy on mankind; The struggling pangs of conscious truth...
Side 3 - WHILST some affect the sun, and some the shade, Some flee the city, some the hermitage ; Their aims as various, as the roads they take In journeying through life ; — the task be mine To paint the gloomy horrors of the tomb ; Th' appointed place of rendezvous, where all These travellers meet.