The Poetical Works of the Rev. Dr. Edward Young: With the Life of the Author, 1. kötet

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Benjamin Johnson, Jacob Johnson, & Robert Johnson, 1805

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22. oldal - tis madness to defer: Next day the fatal precedent will plead; Thus on, till wisdom is pushed out of life. Procrastination is the thief of time; Year after year it steals, till all are fled. And to the mercies of a moment leaves The vast concerns of an eternal scene.
28. oldal - If nothing more than purpose in thy power, Thy purpose firm is equal to the deed. Who does the best his circumstance allows, Does well, acts nobly; angels could no more.
75. oldal - The knell, the shroud, the mattock, and the grave ; The deep damp vault, the darkness, and the worm ; These are the bugbears of a winter's eve, The terrors of the living, not the dead. Imagination's fool, and error's wretch, Man makes a death, which nature never made : Then on the point of his own fancy falls ; And feels a thousand deaths, in fearing one.
23. oldal - All pay themselves the compliment to think They one day shall not drivel, and their pride On this reversion takes up ready praise; At least their own their future selves applaud; How excellent that life they ne'er will lead! Time lodged in their own hands is Folly's vails; That lodged in Fate's to wisdom they consign; The thing they can't but purpose, they postpone.
10. oldal - From different natures marvellously' mixt, Connexion exquisite of distant worlds*! Distinguished link in being's endless chain*! Midway from nothing' to the Deity*! A beam ethereal', sullied', and absorpt*! Though sullied*, and dishonour'd', still divine*? Dim miniature' of greatness absolute*! An heir of glory/! a frail child of dust*! Helpless immortal'! insect infinite*! A worm'! a god*! — I tremble' at myself, And in myself am lost*!
7. oldal - From short (as usual) and disturb'd repose I wake : how happy they who wake no more ! Yet that were vain, if dreams infest the grave.
11. oldal - Her ceaseless flight, though devious, speaks her nature Of subtler essence than the trodden clod; Active, aerial, towering, unconfined, Unfetter'd with her gross companion's fall. Even silent night proclaims my soul immortal: Even silent night proclaims eternal day. For human weal, Heaven husbands all events: Dull sleep instructs, nor sport vain dreams in vain.
97. oldal - Here is firm footing ; here is solid rock ! This can support us ; all is sea besides ; Sinks under us ; bestorms, and then devours. His hand the good man fastens on the skies, And bids earth roll, nor feels her idle whirl.
38. oldal - Where shall I find Him ? Angels ! tell me where. You know him ; He is near you : point him out : Shall I see glories beaming from his brow ? Or trace his footsteps by the rising flowers...
56. oldal - Sweet harmonist ! and beautiful as sweet ! And young as beautiful ! and soft as young , And gay as soft ! and innocent as gay...

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