The castle of Santa Fe, by [the] author of Jealousy; or, The dreadful mistake.4 vols, 1. kötet

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1805

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115. oldal - Making it momentary as a sound, Swift as a shadow, short as any dream ; Brief as the lightning in the collied night, That, in a spleen, unfolds both heaven and earth. And ere a man hath power to say, — Behold ! The jaws of darkness do devour it up : So quick bright things come to confusion.
46. oldal - And truest friends, through error, wound our rest Without misfortune, what calamities! And what hostilities, without a foe! Nor are foes wanting to the best on earth. But endless is the list of human ills, And sighs might sooner fail than cause to sigh.
232. oldal - God in Externals could not place Content. Fortune her gifts may variously dispose, And these be happy call'd, unhappy those ; But...
15. oldal - Through the dark postern of time long elapsed, Led softly, by the stillness of the night, Led like a murderer, (and such it proves !) Strays (wretched rover !) o'er the pleasing past ; In quest of wretchedness perversely strays ; And finds all desert now; and meets the ghosts Of my departed joys...
135. oldal - With every gentle care-eluding art, To raise the virtues, animate the bliss, And sweeten all the toils of human life : This be the female dignity, and praise.
98. oldal - Pow'r, who hast involv'd Thy wise decrees in darkness, to perplex The pride of human wisdom, to confound The daring scrutiny, and prove, the faith Of thy presuming creatures ! hear me now : O vindicate thy honour, clear this doubt.
23. oldal - The reapers move, nor shrink for heat or toil, By emulation urged. Others dispersed Or bind in sheaves, or load or guide the wain That tinkles as it passes. Far behind Old age and infancy with careful hand Pick up each straggling ear.
60. oldal - Her form was fresher than the morning rose, When the dew wets its leaves; unstain'd and pure, As is the lily, or the mountain snow.
78. oldal - Till on some neighbouring mountain's brow He stops, and turns his eyes below ; There, melting at the well-known view, Drops a last tear, and bids adieu : So I, thus doom'd from thee to part, Gay queen of Fancy, and of Art, Reluctant move, with doubtful mind, Oft stop, and often look behind. Companion of my tender age, Serenely gay, and sweetly sage, How blithsome were we wont to rove By verdant hill, or shady grove, Where fervent bees, with humming voice, Around the honey'd oak rejoice, And aged...

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