The Works of the Author of the Night-thoughts ...

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J. Dodsley, 1792

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105. oldal - Man, starting from his couch, shall sleep no more! The day is broke, which never more shall close ! Above, around, beneath, amazement all.' Terror and glory join'd in their extremes ! Our GOD in grandeur, and our world on fire...
85. oldal - All the black cares and tumults of this life, Like harmless thunders, breaking at his feet, Excite his pity, not impair his peace.
58. oldal - Ocean ! thou dreadful and tumultuous home Of dangers, at eternal war with man ! Death's capital, where most he domineers...
249. oldal - But with the talents of an angel, a man may be a fool.
34. oldal - Knowst thou th' importance of a soul immortal ? Behold this midnight glory : worlds on worlds ! Amazing pomp! redouble this amaze ; Ten thousand add ; add twice ten thousand more; Then weigh the whole; one soul out-weighs them all, And calls th' astonishing magnificence Of unintelligent creation poor.
84. oldal - Yet, with a sigh o'er all mankind, I grant, In this our day of proof, our land of hope, The good man has his clouds that intervene ; Clouds, that...
143. oldal - Who bid brute matter's restive lump assume Such various forms, and gave it wings to fly? Has matter innate motion? then each atom, Asserting its indisputable right To dance, would form an universe of dust.
7. oldal - Reason progressive, instinct is complete ; Swift instinct leaps ; slow reason feebly climbs. Brutes soon their zenith reach ; their little all Flows in at once ; in ages they no more Could know, or do, or covet, or enjoy, Were man to live coeval with the Sun, The patriarch-pupil would be learning still ; Yet, dying, leave his lesson half unlearnt.
74. oldal - Each branch of piety delight inspires ; Faith builds a bridge from this world to the next, O'er death's dark gulf, and all its horror hides...
247. oldal - A month ! — Oh, for a single week ! I ask not for years ! though an age were too little for the much I have to do.

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