Night ThoughtsC. Whittingham, 1798 - Всего страниц: 386 |
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Стр. 22
... THEE , her trust , her treasure , As misers to their gold , while others rest . Through this opaque of Nature and of Soul , This double night , transmit one pitying ray , To lighten , and to cheer . O lead my mind , ( A mind that fain ...
... THEE , her trust , her treasure , As misers to their gold , while others rest . Through this opaque of Nature and of Soul , This double night , transmit one pitying ray , To lighten , and to cheer . O lead my mind , ( A mind that fain ...
Стр. 22
... thee more , and double thy distress . LORENZO , fortune makes her court to thee . Thy fond heart dances while the syren sings . Dear is thy welfare ; think me not unkind ; I would not damp , but to secure thy joys . Think not that Fear ...
... thee more , and double thy distress . LORENZO , fortune makes her court to thee . Thy fond heart dances while the syren sings . Dear is thy welfare ; think me not unkind ; I would not damp , but to secure thy joys . Think not that Fear ...
Стр. 22
... thee , Mæonides ! Or , Milton ! thee ; ah ! could I reach your Or his , who made Mæonides our own . Man too he sung : Immortal Man I sing . Oft bursts my song beyond the bounds of life ; What now , but immortality can please ! O had he ...
... thee , Mæonides ! Or , Milton ! thee ; ah ! could I reach your Or his , who made Mæonides our own . Man too he sung : Immortal Man I sing . Oft bursts my song beyond the bounds of life ; What now , but immortality can please ! O had he ...
Стр. 22
... thee I owe ; Fain would I pay thee with Eternity . But ill my genius answers my desire ; My sickly song is mortal , past thy cure . Accept the will ; -that dies not with my strain . 20 25 30 35 40 For what calls thy disease , LORENZO ...
... thee I owe ; Fain would I pay thee with Eternity . But ill my genius answers my desire ; My sickly song is mortal , past thy cure . Accept the will ; -that dies not with my strain . 20 25 30 35 40 For what calls thy disease , LORENZO ...
Стр. 29
... thee small renown . The rest are on the wing : How fleet their flight ! Already has the fatal train took fire ; A moment - and the world's blown up to thee- The sun is darkness - and the stars are dust . 375 ' Tis greatly wise to talk ...
... thee small renown . The rest are on the wing : How fleet their flight ! Already has the fatal train took fire ; A moment - and the world's blown up to thee- The sun is darkness - and the stars are dust . 375 ' Tis greatly wise to talk ...
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æther ambition angels archangels art thou awful beam beneath bids blest bliss blood divine boast boundless charms Christian creation dæmons dark Death deep Deity deny'd divine Dost dread dream dust earth EDWARD YOUNG endless eternal Ev'n ev'ry fate flame fond fool give glorious glory gods grave grief guilt happiness heart Heav'n High Holborn hope hour human illustrious infidels life's light Line live LORENZO Man's mankind midnight mighty mind mortal NARCISSA Nature Nature's ne'er night NIGHT THOUGHTS nought numbers o'er Omnipotence pain passions peace PHILANDER Pleasure poison'd pow'r praise pride proud Reason rise sacred scene sense shew shines sigh sight skies smile song soul immortal sov'reign sphere stars stings strange strike sublime thee theme thine thought throne tomb triumph truth Virtue Virtue's WINCHESTER COLLEGE wing wisdom wise wish wonder wretched
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Стр. 22 - 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.
Стр. 28 - 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.
Стр. 22 - And is it in the flight of threescore years To push eternity from human thought, And smother souls immortal in the dust?
Стр. 13 - Insatiate archer ! could not one suffice ? Thy shaft flew thrice ; and thrice my peace was slain ; And thrice, ere thrice yon moon had fill'd her horn.
Стр. 22 - An heir of glory'! a frail child of dust*! Helpless immortal'! insect infinite*! A worm'! a god*! — I tremble' at myself, And in myself am lost*!
Стр. 16 - For letting down the golden chain from high, He drew his audience upward to the sky...
Стр. 59 - When in this vale of years I backward look, And miss such numbers, numbers too of such, Firmer in health, and greener in their age, And stricter on their guard, and fitter far To play life's subtle game, I scarce believe I still survive...
Стр. 22 - A worm ! a God ! — I tremble at myself, And in myself am lost. At home -a, stranger, Thought wanders up and down, surprised, aghast, And wondering at her own. How Reason reels ! O what a miracle to man is man ! Triumphantly distress'd ! what joy!
Стр. 13 - Night Thoughts" he has exhibited a very wide display of original poetry, variegated with deep reflections and striking allusions, a wilderness of thought, in which the fertility of fancy scatters flowers of every hue and of every odour. This is one of the few poems in which blank verse could not be changed for rhyme but with disadvantage.
Стр. 22 - TIRED Nature's sweet restorer, balmy Sleep ! He, like the world, his ready visit pays Where Fortune smiles ; the wretched he forsakes ; Swift on his downy pinion flies from woe, And lights on lids unsullied with a tear.