The Complaint; Or, Night ThoughtsF.C. and J. Rivington; Scatcherd and Letterman; J. Cuthell; J. Walker; Longman, Hurst, Rees, Orme, and Brown; J. Carpenter; W. Otridge; Cadell and Davies; Lackington, Allen, and Company; and J. Mawman., 1813 - 352 sider |
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Resultater 1-5 af 100
Side 14
... LORENZO , Fortune makes her court to thee : Thy fond heart dances , while the Syren sings . Dear is thy welfare : think me not unkind ; I would not damp , but to secure , thy joys . Think not that fear is sacred to the storm : Stand on ...
... LORENZO , Fortune makes her court to thee : Thy fond heart dances , while the Syren sings . Dear is thy welfare : think me not unkind ; I would not damp , but to secure , thy joys . Think not that fear is sacred to the storm : Stand on ...
Side 15
... LORENZO ! wisdom into folly turns Oft , the first instant its idea fair To labouring thought is born . How dim our eye ! The present moment terminates our sight ; Clouds , thick as those on doomsday , drown the next : We penetrate , we ...
... LORENZO ! wisdom into folly turns Oft , the first instant its idea fair To labouring thought is born . How dim our eye ! The present moment terminates our sight ; Clouds , thick as those on doomsday , drown the next : We penetrate , we ...
Side 16
... LORENZO ! a slow sudden death . How dreadful that deliberate surprise ! Be wise to - day ; ' 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 ...
... LORENZO ! a slow sudden death . How dreadful that deliberate surprise ! Be wise to - day ; ' 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 ...
Side 19
... LORENZO ! let me turn my thoughts on thee ; And thine , on themes may profit : profit there , Where most thy need : themes , too , the genuine growth Of dear PHILANDER's dust . He , thus , though dead , May still befriend . - What ...
... LORENZO ! let me turn my thoughts on thee ; And thine , on themes may profit : profit there , Where most thy need : themes , too , the genuine growth Of dear PHILANDER's dust . He , thus , though dead , May still befriend . - What ...
Side 20
... LORENZO ? not For Esculapian , but for moral aid . Thou think'st it folly , to be wise too soon . Youth is not rich in time , it may be , poor : Part with it as with money , sparing ; pay 20 NIGHT II . THE COMPLAINT .
... LORENZO ? not For Esculapian , but for moral aid . Thou think'st it folly , to be wise too soon . Youth is not rich in time , it may be , poor : Part with it as with money , sparing ; pay 20 NIGHT II . THE COMPLAINT .
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adore æther ambition angels archangels art thou beam beneath bids bless'd blessings bliss blood divine boast boundless call'd charms creation dæmons dark death deep DEITY delight divine Dost dread dust earth EDWARD YOUNG endless eternal fair fate fire flame fond fool gaze give glorious glory gods grave grief groan guilt happiness heart heaven hope hour human illustrious indulge infidels life's light live LORENZO man's mankind midnight mind mismeasured mortal NARCISSA nature nature's ne'er night nought numbers o'er Omnipotence orbs pain passion peace PHILANDER pleasure praise pride proud rapture reason rise sacred scene sense shew shines sigh sight skies smile song soul immortal sphere stars stings storm strange thee theme thine thought throne thy disease tomb triumph truth virtue virtue's Weybridge wing wisdom wise wish wonder wretched ye stars
Populære passager
Side 3 - Nature's sweet restorer, balmy Sleep ! He, like the world, his ready visit pays Where Fortune smiles ; the wretched he forsakes : Swift*, on his downy pinion flies from woe, • And lights on lids unsullied with a tear.
Side 16 - By Nature's law, what may be, may be now ; There 's no prerogative in human hours. In human hearts what bolder thought can rise, Than man's presumption on to-morrow's dawn ? Where is to-morrow ? In another world. For numbers this is certain ; the reverse Is sure to none ; and yet on this perhaps...
Side 5 - 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? With the years beyond the flood.
Side 117 - Each moment on the former shuts the grave. While man is growing, life is in decrease, And cradles rock us nearer to the tomb. Our birth is nothing but our death begun, As tapers waste that instant they take fire.
Side 8 - Yon ambient .azure shell, and spring to life, The life of gods — O transport ! and of man. Yet man, fool man ! here buries all his thoughts ; Inters celestial hopes without one sigh : Prisoner of earth, and pent beneath the moon, Here pinions all his wishes : wing'd by heaven To fly at infinite, and reach it there, Where seraphs gather immortality, On life's fair tree, fast by the throne of God.
Side 6 - What can preserve my life? or what destroy? An angel's arm can't snatch me from the grave; Legions of angels can't confine me there.
Side 53 - Smitten friends Are angels sent on errands full of love ; For us they languish, and for us they die : And shall they languish, shall they die, in vain ? Ungrateful, shall we grieve their hovering shades, Which wait the revolution in our hearts? Shall we disdain their silent, soft, address, Their posthumous advice, and pious prayer ? Senseless as herds that graze their hallo w'd graves, Tread under foot their agonies and groans, Frustrate their anguish, and destroy their deaths...
Side 10 - More mortal than the common births of Fate. Each moment has its sickle, emulous Of Time's enormous scythe, whose ample sweep Strikes empires from the root; each moment plays His little weapon in the narrower sphere Of sweet domestic comfort, and cuts down The fairest bloom of sublunary bliss.
Side 40 - The chamber where the good man meets his fate, Is privileged beyond the common walk Of virtuous life, quite in the verge of heaven.
Side 5 - Lead it through various scenes of life and death ; And from each scene the noblest truths inspire. Nor less inspire my conduct, than my song...