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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Страница 6
... hast deserv'd from me Far , far beyond what I can ever pay . Oft ' have I prov'd the labours of thy love , And the warm efforts of the gentle heart Anxious to please . O ! when my friend and I In some thick wood have wander'd heedless ...
... hast deserv'd from me Far , far beyond what I can ever pay . Oft ' have I prov'd the labours of thy love , And the warm efforts of the gentle heart Anxious to please . O ! when my friend and I In some thick wood have wander'd heedless ...
Страница 7
... hast thou hid thy many - spangled head , And the majestic menace of thine eyes Felt from afar ? pliant and pow'rless now ; Like new - born infant bound up in his swathes , Or victim tumbled flat upon his back , That throbs beneath the ...
... hast thou hid thy many - spangled head , And the majestic menace of thine eyes Felt from afar ? pliant and pow'rless now ; Like new - born infant bound up in his swathes , Or victim tumbled flat upon his back , That throbs beneath the ...
Страница 10
... it a new pulse unknown before ! The Grave discredits thee : thy charms expung'd , Thy roses faded , and thy lilies soil'd , What hast thou more to boast of ? Will thy lovers Flock round thee now , to gaze and do thee 10 THE GRAVE .
... it a new pulse unknown before ! The Grave discredits thee : thy charms expung'd , Thy roses faded , and thy lilies soil'd , What hast thou more to boast of ? Will thy lovers Flock round thee now , to gaze and do thee 10 THE GRAVE .
Страница 15
... hast the gulph in view ! That awful gulf no mortal e'er repass'd , To tell what's doing on the other side ! Nature runs back , and shudders at the sight , And every life - string bleeds at thoughts of parting ! For part they must ! body ...
... hast the gulph in view ! That awful gulf no mortal e'er repass'd , To tell what's doing on the other side ! Nature runs back , and shudders at the sight , And every life - string bleeds at thoughts of parting ! For part they must ! body ...
Страница 22
... hast thou made , foul monster , sin ! Greatest and first of ills ! the fruitful parent Of woes of all dimensions ! but for thee Sorrow had never been . All noxious things Of vilest nature , other sorts of evils , Are kindly circumscrib ...
... hast thou made , foul monster , sin ! Greatest and first of ills ! the fruitful parent Of woes of all dimensions ! but for thee Sorrow had never been . All noxious things Of vilest nature , other sorts of evils , Are kindly circumscrib ...
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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
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Страница 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...
Страница 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.
Страница 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.
Страница 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?
Страница 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.
Страница 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...
Страница 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.
Страница 31 - Forbade to wade through slaughter to a throne, And shut the gates of mercy on mankind; The struggling pangs of conscious truth...
Страница 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.