Essays: On the Following Subjects: Celibacy, Wedlock, Seduction, Pride, Duelling, Self-murder, Lying, Detraction, Avarice, Justice, Generosity, Temperance, Excess, Death
Smart and Cowslade, 1806 - 190 oldal
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action admiration allow appear applied arts avarice become better blood body brought called cause Celibacy character claim commanded committed concern considered courage crime death demands desire diseases drink duty effects enemies equally ESSAY evil exposed expressed father fear feel fortune frequently friends give greater habit happiness heart hence honour human injurious instances interest Italy Judge justice justly kind King less live look Lord mankind manner marriage marry mean mind moral murdered nature never obliged observation occasions once parent passion person practice present pride principle punishment reason received respect revenge Romans says seduction sentiments severity single sions society sort soul suffer sufficient tears tell temperance thing thou thought tion truth usually vice virtue wedlock wise woman women writer young
144. oldal - There the wicked cease from troubling; and there the weary be at rest. There the prisoners rest together; they hear not the voice of the oppressor. The small and great are there; and the servant is free from his master.
56. oldal - tis no matter; honour pricks me on. Yea, but how if honour prick me off when I come on? How then? Can honour set to a leg? No. Or an arm? No. Or take away the grief of a wound? No. Honour hath no skill in surgery, then? No. What is honour? A word. What is in that word honour? What is that honour? Air. A trim reckoning! Who hath it? He that died o
110. oldal - Julius bleed for justice' sake? What villain touch'd his body, that did stab, And not for justice? What, shall one of us, That struck the foremost man of all this world, But for supporting robbers; shall we now Contaminate our fingers with base bribes? And sell the mighty space of our large honours...
77. oldal - Who would fardels bear, To grunt and sweat under a weary life, But that the dread of something after death, The undiscover'd country from whose bourn No traveller returns, puzzles the will And makes us rather bear those ills we have Than fly to others that we know not of?
56. oldal - Wednesday. Doth he feel it ? No. Doth he hear it ? No. Is it insensible then ? Yea, to the dead. But will it not live with the living ? No. Why? Detraction will, not suffer it: — therefore I'll none of it: Honour is a mere scutcheon, and so ends my catechism.
77. oldal - tis a consummation Devoutly to be wish'd. To die: to sleep; To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub; For in that sleep of death what dreams may come When we have shuffled off this mortal coil Must give us pause: there's the respect That makes calamity of so long life...
153. oldal - Hark ! they whisper ; angels say, ' Sister Spirit, come away ! ' What is this absorbs me quite ? Steals my senses, shuts my sight, Drowns my spirits, draws my breath ? Tell me, my soul, can this be Death...
115. oldal - HEAVEN eternal fountain of our feelings! 'tis here I trace thee and this is thy divinity which stirs within me not that, in some sad and sickening moments, my soul shrinks back upon herself, and startles at destruction mere pomp of words!
69. oldal - God created man in his own image, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and man became a living soul.