Death's Doings; Consisting of Numerous Original Compositions, in Verse and Prose, the Friendly Contributions of Various Writers: Principally Intended as Illustrations of Thirty Copper-plates Designed and Etched by R. Dagley. From the 2d London Ed., with Considerable Additions, Bind 1C. Ewer, 1828 |
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Side 25
... wild creation of a fev'rish brain Is this , which mocks my sight with ghastly forms Of skeletons - grotesque yet terrible ? Is't an illusive vision , conjured up To cheat the eye and scare the tim'rous soul ? — Ha ! -no - ' tis real ...
... wild creation of a fev'rish brain Is this , which mocks my sight with ghastly forms Of skeletons - grotesque yet terrible ? Is't an illusive vision , conjured up To cheat the eye and scare the tim'rous soul ? — Ha ! -no - ' tis real ...
Side 36
... once more all Is still ! -Yet , there's the charnel - house ; and there The auditors in wild amazement stand ! - O let me homeward turn , and meditate Upon the solemn scene . S. M. THE LAST OF THE GRACES . * ( By the. 36 DEATH'S DOINGS .
... once more all Is still ! -Yet , there's the charnel - house ; and there The auditors in wild amazement stand ! - O let me homeward turn , and meditate Upon the solemn scene . S. M. THE LAST OF THE GRACES . * ( By the. 36 DEATH'S DOINGS .
Side 39
... WILD WIT , FALSE TASTE , and AMOROUS DELIGht , Praised by the many , by the few admired , Performed their part , then suddenly retired : - The dance stood still - men watched the closing door ! Sighed - turned - and all went gaily as ...
... WILD WIT , FALSE TASTE , and AMOROUS DELIGht , Praised by the many , by the few admired , Performed their part , then suddenly retired : - The dance stood still - men watched the closing door ! Sighed - turned - and all went gaily as ...
Side 43
... Wild and deep thy spirit quaff'd , There was poison in the bowl . Then the haunting visions rose , Spectres round thy bosom's throne . Poet ! what shall paint thy woes , But a pencil like thine own ? Thou art vanish'd ! Earthly Fame ...
... Wild and deep thy spirit quaff'd , There was poison in the bowl . Then the haunting visions rose , Spectres round thy bosom's throne . Poet ! what shall paint thy woes , But a pencil like thine own ? Thou art vanish'd ! Earthly Fame ...
Side 57
... wild imaginings of fancy bright , Are his , as up the weary steep he climbs To win renown , -to win that glory which Must only shine upon his early grave ! Oh ! he had hop'd to gain renown as great As that which to Italia's sons belong ...
... wild imaginings of fancy bright , Are his , as up the weary steep he climbs To win renown , -to win that glory which Must only shine upon his early grave ! Oh ! he had hop'd to gain renown as great As that which to Italia's sons belong ...
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arms art thou ball beauty beneath Bolus bones bosom bowl breast breath bright brow charms cheek Cricket David Willis dear Death deep delight doctor dread dream Drybones e'en earth fair fame fancy fear feel flowers fond gamester Gaul gaze gleam glory grace grand match Hambledon Club hand happy hath head heart heaven honour hope hour human Hyde Abbey imagination Izaak Walton John Small John Strong Kew Bridge lady life's light lips live look Lucy MELPOMENE mind morning mortal mother ne'er night o'er pale Petersfield Piscator play pleasure poor pride rich rose round Salisbury Plain scarcely scene shade she-the sigh sight skill sleep smile soul sugar-baking sweet tears thee thine thing thou art thought tomb Twas Tyro whilst wicket wild wine Wunderlich young youth
Populære passager
Side 358 - Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away. For, lo, the winter is past, The rain is over and gone ; The flowers appear on the earth ; The time of the singing of birds is come, And the voice of the turtle is heard in our land ; The fig tree putteth forth her green figs, And the vines with the tender grape give a good smell. Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away.
Side 6 - All murder'd : for within the hollow crown That rounds the mortal temples of a king Keeps Death his court, and there the antic sits, Scoffing his state and grinning at his pomp, Allowing him a breath, a little scene, To monarchize, be fear'd and kill with looks...
Side 23 - Is it when spring's first gale Comes forth to whisper where the violets lie? Is it when roses in our paths grow pale? They have one season— all are ours to die...
Side 6 - Allowing him a breath, a little scene, To monarchize, be fear'd and kill with looks, Infusing him with self and vain conceit, As if this flesh which walls about our life Were brass impregnable, and humour'd thus Comes at the last and with a little pin Bores through his castle wall, and farewell king!
Side 25 - And said to the mountains and rocks, Fall on us, and hide us from the face of him that sitteth on the throne, and from the wrath of the Lamb: For the great day of his wrath is come; and who shall be able to stand?
Side 23 - ... round the joyous hearth; Night, for the dreams of sleep, the voice of prayer But all for thee, thou Mightiest of the earth! The banquet hath its hour, Its feverish hour of mirth, and song, and wine; There comes a day for grief's o'erwhelming power, A time for softer tears - but all are thine.
Side 22 - There is one glory of the sun, and another glory of the moon, and another glory of the stars; for one star differeth from another star in glory. So also is the resurrection of the dead.
Side 425 - Nay, let me tell you, there be many that have forty times our estates, that would give the greatest part of it to be healthful and cheerful like us, who, with the expense of a little money, have eat, and drank, and laughed, and angled, and sung, and slept securely ; and rose next day, and cast away care, and sung, and laughed, and angled again, which are blessings rich men cannot purchase with all their money.
Side 22 - Death. Day is for mortal care ; Eve, for glad meetings round the joyous hearth ; Night, for the dreams of sleep, the voice of prayer ,— But all for thee, thou Mightiest of the earth.
Side 417 - I mean, with inclinations to it, though both may be heightened by discourse and practice : but he that hopes to be a good angler, must not only bring an inquiring, searching, observing wit, but he must bring a large measure of hope and patience, and a love and propensity to the art itself; but having once got and practised it, then doubt not but Angling will prove to be so pleasant that it will prove to be, like virtue, a reward to itself.