Night Thoughts on Life, Death, and ImmortalityLongman, Orme, and Company; T. Cadell; Baldwin and Cradock; J. G. and F. Rivington; Newman and Company; Whittaker and Company; Sherwood and Company; T. Tegg; ... [and 8 others], 1839 - 280 páginas |
No interior do livro
Resultados 1-5 de 98
Página 2
... 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 . It is the signal that demands despatch ...
... 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 . It is the signal that demands despatch ...
Página 8
... give , and reduce Surfeit's dominion o'er you . But so great Your impudence , you blush at what is right . Happy ! did sorrow seize on such alone : Not prudence can defend , nor virtue save ; Disease invades the chastest temperance ...
... give , and reduce Surfeit's dominion o'er you . But so great Your impudence , you blush at what is right . Happy ! did sorrow seize on such alone : Not prudence can defend , nor virtue save ; Disease invades the chastest temperance ...
Página 9
... give Swoln thought a second channel ; who divide , They weaken , too , the torrent of their grief . Take , then , O world ! thy much indebted tear ; How sad a sight is human happiness To those whose thought can pierce beyond an hour ? O ...
... give Swoln thought a second channel ; who divide , They weaken , too , the torrent of their grief . Take , then , O world ! thy much indebted tear ; How sad a sight is human happiness To those whose thought can pierce beyond an hour ? O ...
Página 12
... give it vent , The longest night , though longer far , would fail , And the lark listen to my midnight song . The sprightly lark's shrill matin wakes the morn ; Grief's sharpest thorn hard pressing on my breast , I strive , with wakeful ...
... give it vent , The longest night , though longer far , would fail , And the lark listen to my midnight song . The sprightly lark's shrill matin wakes the morn ; Grief's sharpest thorn hard pressing on my breast , I strive , with wakeful ...
Página 16
... give ; Pregnant with all that makes archangels smile . Who murders Time , he crushes in the birth A power ethereal , only not adored . Ah ! how unjust to Nature and himself Is thoughtless , thankless , inconsistent man ! Like children ...
... give ; Pregnant with all that makes archangels smile . Who murders Time , he crushes in the birth A power ethereal , only not adored . Ah ! how unjust to Nature and himself Is thoughtless , thankless , inconsistent man ! Like children ...
Outras edições - Ver tudo
Palavras e frases frequentes
adore ambition angels archangels art thou awful beam beneath bids blest bliss blood divine boast book of Job boundless canst creation dæmons dark death deep Deity delight divine dost dread dust E'en earth EDWARD YOUNG endless eternal ethereal ev'ry fate fire flame fond fool gaze give glorious glory grave grief groan guilt happiness heart heav'n Heaven's hope hour human illustrious indulge know'st life's light live Lorenzo man's mankind midnight mighty mind mismeasured mortal Narcissa nature nature's naught ne'er night numbers o'er Omnipotence pain passion peace Philander pleasure pow'r praise pride proud reason rise sacred scene sense shades shew shines sigh sight skies smile song soul immortal sov'reign sphere stars stings storm tempest thee theme thine thought throne thy disease tomb triumph truth virtue virtue's Winchester College wing wisdom wise wonder wretched
Passagens conhecidas
Página 2 - 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 It is the signal that demands despatch: How much is to be done!
Página 22 - 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.
Página 12 - And why ? Because he thinks himself immortal. All men think all men mortal, but themselves ; Themselves, when some alarming shock of fate Strikes through their wounded hearts the sudden dread : But their hearts wounded, like the wounded air, Soon close ; where pass'd 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 : Even with the tender tear which Nature sheds O'er those we love, we drop...
Página 18 - The man who consecrates his hours By vigorous effort, and an honest aim, At once he draws the sting of life and death : He walks with nature ; and her paths are peace.
Página 185 - Some angel guide my pencil, while I draw, What nothing less than angel can exceed, A man on earth devoted to the skies; Like ships in seas, while in, above the world. With aspect mild, and elevated eye, Behold him seated on a mount serene, Above the fogs of sense, and passion's storm ; All the black cares and tumults of this life, Like harmless thunders, breaking at his feet, Excite his pity, not impair his peace.
Página 12 - As duteous sons, our fathers were more wise. 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. And why ? Because he thinks himself immortal. All men think all men mortal, but themselves ; Themselves, when some alarming shock of fate Strikes thro...
Página 3 - It is the signal that demands despatch: How much is to be done! My hopes and fears Start up alarmed, and o'er life's narrow verge Look down — on what ? A fathomless abyss ! A dread eternity! How surely mine! And can eternity belong to me, Poor pensioner on the bounties of an hour?
Página 1 - 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. I wake, emerging from a sea of dreams Tumultuous ; where my wreck'd desponding thought, From wave to wave of fancied misery, At random drove, her helm of reason lost.
Página 17 - To man's false optics (from his folly false) Time, in advance, behind him hides his wings, And seems to creep, decrepit with his age : Behold him, when past by ; what then is seen, But his broad pinions swifter than the winds? And all mankind, in contradiction strong, Rueful, aghast ! cry out on his career.
Página 38 - Smitten friends Are angels sent on errands full of love; For us they languish, and for us they die : And shall they languish, shall they die, in vain ? Ungrateful, shall we grieve their hovering shades Which wait the revolution in our hearts?