The Complaint: Or, Night Thoughts on Life, Death, and Immortality: To which is Added, a Paraphrase on Part of the Book of Job..Printed in the year, 1771 - 263 страници |
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... glory ! a frail child of duft ! Helpless immortal ! infe & t infinite ! A worm a god ! -I tremble at myself , And in myfelf am 1ft ! At home a ftranger , Thought wanders up and down , furpriz'd , aghaft , And wond'ring at her own : how ...
... glory ! a frail child of duft ! Helpless immortal ! infe & t infinite ! A worm a god ! -I tremble at myself , And in myfelf am 1ft ! At home a ftranger , Thought wanders up and down , furpriz'd , aghaft , And wond'ring at her own : how ...
Страница 13
... glory - Doft thou mourn Philander's fate ! I know thou fay'ft it : fays thy life the fame ? He mourns the dead , who lives as they defire , Where is that thrift , that avarice of TIME , ( 0 glorious avarice ! ) thought of death infpires ...
... glory - Doft thou mourn Philander's fate ! I know thou fay'ft it : fays thy life the fame ? He mourns the dead , who lives as they defire , Where is that thrift , that avarice of TIME , ( 0 glorious avarice ! ) thought of death infpires ...
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... glory lighted at the skies , And caft in fhadows his illuftrious clofe . Strange ! the theme most affecting , most fublime , Momentuous most to man , fhou'd fleep unfung ! And yet it fleeps , by genius unawak'd , Painim or Chriftian ...
... glory lighted at the skies , And caft in fhadows his illuftrious clofe . Strange ! the theme most affecting , most fublime , Momentuous most to man , fhou'd fleep unfung ! And yet it fleeps , by genius unawak'd , Painim or Chriftian ...
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... glory to his God ! Man's glory heav'n vouchfafes to call her own . We gaze ; we weep ; mixt tears of grief and joy ? Amazement strikes ! Devotion burfts to flame ! Chriftians adore ! and Infidels believe . As fome tall tow'r , or lofty ...
... glory to his God ! Man's glory heav'n vouchfafes to call her own . We gaze ; we weep ; mixt tears of grief and joy ? Amazement strikes ! Devotion burfts to flame ! Chriftians adore ! and Infidels believe . As fome tall tow'r , or lofty ...
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... glory , whence they flow . Nor is that glory diftant : O Lorenzo ! A good man , and an angel ! these between How thin the barrier ? what divides their fate ? Perhaps a moment ; or perhaps a year ; ' Or , if an age , it is a moment D 2 ...
... glory , whence they flow . Nor is that glory diftant : O Lorenzo ! A good man , and an angel ! these between How thin the barrier ? what divides their fate ? Perhaps a moment ; or perhaps a year ; ' Or , if an age , it is a moment D 2 ...
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æther againſt Ambition angels art thou becauſe beneath bleffings bleft blifs boaft bofom Book of JOB boundleſs caufe dark darkneſs death defcend DEITY deſpair diftant divine doft dread duft e'er earth eternal ev'ry facred fame fate fcene feems feen fenfe fhades fhall fhines fhould figh fight fink firft fkies flame fleeps fmile foar fome fong fons fool foon foul immortal fpirit ftars ftill ftrange ftrike fuch fure glory grave guilt happineſs heart heav'n himſelf hour human juft laft lefs life's Lorenzo man's mankind moft mortal moſt muft nature nature's ne'er night nought numbers o'er Paffion paft pain peace Pleaſure pow'r praife praiſe prefent pride proud Reafon rife ſcene Senfe ſhall ſkies ſphere thee thefe theme theſe thine thofe thoſe thought thouſand thro throne triumph truth vaft virtue wafte whofe wife wing Wiſdom wretched
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Страница 7 - ... immortal. All men think all men mortal but themselves ; Themselves, when some alarming shock of Fate Strikes through their wounded hearts the sudden dread : But their hearts wounded, like the wounded air, Soon close; where past the shaft no trace is found.
Страница 20 - Nature, in zeal for human amity, Denies or damps an undivided joy. Joy is an import; joy is an exchange; Joy flies monopolists; it calls for two: Rich fruit!
Страница 68 - Our life, tho' still more rapid in its flow, Nor mark the much irrevocably laps'd, And mingled with the sea.
Страница 2 - Death ! great proprietor of all! 'tis thine To tread out empire, and to quench the stars. The sun himself by thy permission shines, And one day thou shalt pluck him from his sphere...
Страница 17 - 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.
Страница 45 - He rose! he rose! he burst the bars of death. Lift up your heads, ye everlasting gates! And give the King of Glory to come in. Who is the King of Glory ? he who left His throne of glory for the pang of death. Lift up your heads, ye everlasting gates!
Страница 2 - tis the common lot: In this shape or in that has Fate entail'd The mother's throes on all of woman born, Not more the children than sure heirs of pain.
Страница 19 - To gentle life's descent We shut our eyes, and think it is a plain. We take fair days in winter, for the spring; And turn our blessings into bane.