Mit mondanak mások - Írjon ismertetőt
Nem találtunk ismertetőket a szokott helyeken.
Más kiadások - Összes megtekintése
Æther Ambition Angels art thou Beam beneath bids blest Blifs Bliss Blood Divine boast Book of Job boundless calls canst Charms Chimæras Creation Dæmons Darkness Death deep Deity Delight deny'd Divine Dost dreadful Dust Earth endless Eternity Ev'n ev'ry Fame Fate Flame fond Fool Friend gaze give glorious Glory Grave Grief Groan Guilt Happiness Heart Heav'n Hope Hour human illustrious Light Lise Lise's live Lorenzo Love Man's Mankind Midnight mighty mortal Narcissa Nature Nature's ne'er Night nought Numbers o'er Omnipotence Pain Peace Philander Pleasure Pow'r Praife Praise Pride proud Reason Right rise sacred Scene seeble seel Sense Shades shines Sigh Sight Skies smile Song Soul immortal Sphere Stars Storm strange Tempest thee Theme Thine Thought thro Throne thy Disease Tomb tremble Triumph Truth Virtue Virtue's Wijhes Wing Wisdom Wise Wonder World wretched ye Stars
13. oldal - At thirty man suspects himself a fool ; Knows it at forty, and reforms his plan ; At fifty chides his infamous delay, Pushes his prudent purpose to resolve; In all the magnanimity of thought Resolves and re-resolves; then dies the same.
13. oldal - Of man's miraculous mistakes this bears The palm, ' That all men are about to live, For ever on the brink of being born.' 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.
3. oldal - 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.
13. oldal - 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. As from the wing no scar the sky retains, The parted wave no furrow from the keel, So dies in human hearts the thought of death : E'en with the tender tear which Nature sheds O'er those we love, we drop it in their grave.
21. oldal - Godhead streaming through a thousand worlds ; Not on those terms, from the great days of Heaven, From old Eternity's mysterious orb, Was Time cut off, and cast beneath the skies ; The skies, which watch him in his new abode, Measuring his motions by revolving spheres; That horologe machinery divine.
69. oldal - ... ?—Thou, my all! My theme, my inspiration, and my crown ! My strength in age ! my rise in low estate ! My soul's ambition, pleasure, wealth !—my world ! My light in darkness! and my life in death ! My boast through time!
26. oldal - 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.
53. oldal - 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.
44. oldal - Our dying friends come o'er us like a cloud, To damp our brainless ardours, and abate That glare of life which often blinds the wise. Our dying friends are pioneers, to smooth Our rugged pass to death ; to break those bars Of terror and abhorrence Nature throws Cross our obstructed way, and thus to make Welcome, as safe, our port from every storm.