The grave, a poem. To which are added An elegy in a country church-yard, by Gray. Death, a poem, by bishop Porteus [&c.].1804 |
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Стр. 6
... deep ; whilst ev'ry flower Vied with its fellow - plant in luxury Of dress . O ! then the longest summer's day Seem'd too , too much in haste ; still the full heart Had not imparted half : ' twas happiness Too exquisite to last . Of ...
... deep ; whilst ev'ry flower Vied with its fellow - plant in luxury Of dress . O ! then the longest summer's day Seem'd too , too much in haste ; still the full heart Had not imparted half : ' twas happiness Too exquisite to last . Of ...
Стр. 9
... deep cut marble , Unsteady to the steel , gives up its charge . Ambition , half convicted of her folly , Hangs down the head , and reddens at the tale , Here all the mighty troublers of the earth , Who swam to sov'reign rule thro ' seas ...
... deep cut marble , Unsteady to the steel , gives up its charge . Ambition , half convicted of her folly , Hangs down the head , and reddens at the tale , Here all the mighty troublers of the earth , Who swam to sov'reign rule thro ' seas ...
Стр. 11
... deep groan indeed ! With anguish heavy laden ; let me trace it : Fom yonder bed it comes , where the strong man By stronger arm belal our'd , gasps for breath Like a hard hunted beast . How his great heart Beats thick ; his roomy chest ...
... deep groan indeed ! With anguish heavy laden ; let me trace it : Fom yonder bed it comes , where the strong man By stronger arm belal our'd , gasps for breath Like a hard hunted beast . How his great heart Beats thick ; his roomy chest ...
Стр. 13
... deep research . But why this apparatus ? why this cost ? Tell us , thou doughty keeper from the grave ! Where are thy recipes and cordials now , With the long list of vouchers for thy cures ? Alas ! thou speakest not , The bold imposter ...
... deep research . But why this apparatus ? why this cost ? Tell us , thou doughty keeper from the grave ! Where are thy recipes and cordials now , With the long list of vouchers for thy cures ? Alas ! thou speakest not , The bold imposter ...
Стр. 19
... Deep read in stratagems , and wiles of courts : Now vain their treaty - skill ! Death scorns to treat , Here the o'erloaded slave flings down his burthen From his gall'd shoulders ; and when the cruel tyrant , With all his guards and ...
... Deep read in stratagems , and wiles of courts : Now vain their treaty - skill ! Death scorns to treat , Here the o'erloaded slave flings down his burthen From his gall'd shoulders ; and when the cruel tyrant , With all his guards and ...
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The Grave, a Poem. to Which Are Added an Elegy in a Country Church-Yard, by ... Robert Blair Недоступно для просмотра - 2016 |
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Almighty arrow cross beneath Bishop Porteus bleeding blood bloom boast breath catholicons cheek cheer COUNTRY CHURCH-YARD cruel dæmon dark dead dead of night Death deep disarm'd dread drops dust E'en e'er earth endless pains ev'n ev'ry fair fame flatt'ring foul gen'ral gen'rous gentle gloomy groan hand hard hunted hast heart Heav'n honour'd horrors hour immortal song joys life's ling'ring liv'd live look loud mankind mansions Methinks mighty nature ne'er neighbours say night nought o'er Offer'd once pain paths of glory Peace pow'r promis'd proud Robert Blair round rouze rude ruin scarce scatter'd shew sight Smil'd smile sons soon soul sound spoils stamp'd strange stream sudden sweet swoln tale tell thee thick thine thing thou thro tomb twas tyrant vex'd warm weary WESTMINSTER ABBEY Whilst wreck wretch yonder younker youth
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Стр. 29 - For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn, Or busy housewife ply her evening care ; No children run to lisp their sire's return, Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share. Oft did the harvest to their sickle yield, Their furrow oft the stubborn glebe has broke ; How jocund did they drive their team a-field ! How bow'd the woods beneath their sturdy stroke...
Стр. 32 - Graved on the stone beneath yon aged thorn.' The Epitaph Here rests his head upon the lap of Earth, A youth, to fortune and to fame unknown: Fair science frown'd not on his humble birth, And melancholy mark'd him for her own.
Стр. 31 - With uncouth rhymes and shapeless sculpture decked, Implores the passing tribute of a sigh. Their name, their years, spelt by the unlettered muse, The place of fame and elegy supply; And many a holy text around she strews, That teach the rustic moralist to die.
Стр. 29 - Can storied urn or animated bust Back to its mansion call the fleeting breath? Can Honour's voice provoke the silent dust, Or Flattery soothe the dull cold ear of death?
Стр. 50 - Haply some hoary-headed swain may say, ' Oft have we seen him at the peep of dawn Brushing with hasty steps the dews away To meet the sun upon the upland lawn.
Стр. 50 - The place of fame and elegy supply : And many a holy text around she strews That teach the rustic moralist to die. For who, to dumb forgetfulness a prey, This pleasing anxious being e'er...
Стр. 50 - There at the foot of yonder nodding beech That wreathes its old fantastic roots so high, His listless length at noontide would he stretch, And pore upon the brook that babbles by.
Стр. 31 - Forbade to wade through slaughter to a throne, And shut the gates of mercy on mankind; The struggling pangs of conscious truth...
Стр. 3 - WHILST some affect the sun, and some the shade, Some flee the city, some the hermitage ; Their aims as various, as the roads they take In journeying through life ; — the task be mine To paint the gloomy horrors of the tomb ; Th' appointed place of rendezvous, where all These travellers meet.