Nature of the mind

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Longman, Rees, Orme, Brown, Green, & Longman, 1834

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51. oldal - For that which befalleth the sons of men befalleth beasts ; even one thing befalleth them : as the one dieth, so dieth the other; yea, they have all one breath ; so that a man hath no preeminence above a beast : for all is vanity. All go unto one place; all are of the dust, and all turn to dust again.
336. oldal - On a rock, whose haughty brow Frowns o'er old Conway's foaming flood, Robed in the sable garb of woe, With haggard eyes the poet stood ; (Loose his beard and hoary hair, Stream'd like a meteor to the troubled air,) And with a master's hand and prophet's fire Struck the deep sorrows of his lyre...
238. oldal - Come, pensive Nun, devout and pure, Sober, steadfast, and demure, All in a robe of darkest grain, Flowing with majestic train, And sable stole of cypress lawn Over thy decent shoulders drawn. Come; but keep thy wonted state, With even step, and musing gait, And looks commercing with the skies, Thy rapt soul sitting in thine eyes...
213. oldal - HAPPINESS ! our being's end and aim ! Good, Pleasure, Ease, Content ! whate'er thy name: That something still which prompts th' eternal sigh, For which we bear to live, or dare to die...
289. oldal - Grief fills the room up of my absent child, Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me, Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words, Remembers me of all his gracious parts, Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form ; Then have I reason to be fond of grief.
365. oldal - The lunatic, the lover, and the poet, Are of imagination all compact : One sees more devils than vast hell can hold — That is the madman : the lover, all as frantic, Sees Helen's beauty in a brow of Egypt : The poet's eye, in a fine frenzy rolling, Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven, And, as imagination bodies forth The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen Turns them to shapes, and gives to airy nothing A local habitation and a name.
292. oldal - O, that the slave had forty thousand lives ! One is too poor, too weak for my revenge.
255. oldal - Yet are thy skies as blue, thy crags as wild ; Sweet are thy groves, and verdant are thy fields, Thine olive ripe as when Minerva smiled, And still his...
162. oldal - For the invisible things of God from the creation of the world are clearly seen, being understood by the things that are made, even His eternal power and Godhead...
250. oldal - Twas but a kindred sound to move, For pity melts the mind to love. Softly sweet, in Lydian measures Soon he soothed his soul to pleasures. War...

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