The New Road to Ruin: A Novel, Том 2

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Стр. 250 - Tho' they may gang a kennin wrang, To step aside is human : One point must still be greatly dark, The moving Why they do it ; And just as lamely can ye mark, How far perhaps they rue it. Who made the heart, 'tis He alone Decidedly can try us, He knows each chord its various tone, Each spring its various bias : Then at the balance let's be mute, We never can adjust it ; What's done we partly may compute, But know not what's resisted.
Стр. 146 - And deemed the deep opake would blot her beams; But, melting like a wreath of snow, it hangs In folds of wavy silver round, and clothes The orb with richer beauties than her own, Then passing, leaves her in her light serene.
Стр. 1 - There is a word of plural number Foe to peace and tranquil slumber. Now any word you choose to take, By adding S you plural make, But if you add an S to this Strange is the metamorphosis ! Plural is plural then no more, And sweet what bitter was before.
Стр. 64 - I have often said, that this world is a comedy to those who think, a tragedy to those who feel ; and sensibility has not only occasion to suffer for others, but is sure of its own portion too.
Стр. 244 - because if they are untrue I run the risk of being deceived, and if they are true, of hating people not worth thinking about.
Стр. 16 - Some, when they write to their friends, are all affection; some are wise and sententious; some strain their powers for efforts of gaiety: some write news, and some write secrets; but to make a letter without affection, without wisdom, without gaiety, without news, and without a secret, is, doubtless, the great epistolick art.
Стр. 183 - Allons, c'est trop souffrir les chagrins qu'on nous forge, Tirons-nous de ce bois et de ce coupe-gorge. Puisqu'entre humains ainsi vous vivez en vrais loups, Traîtres, vous ne m'aurez de ma vie avec vous. Phil. Je trouve un peu bien prompt1 le dessein où vous êtes ; Et tout le mal n'est pas si grand que vous le faites.
Стр. 23 - The wandering streams that shine between the hills, The grots that echo to the tinkling rills, The dying gales that pant upon the trees, The lakes that quiver to the curling breeze; No more these scenes my meditation aid, Or lull to rest the visionary maid.
Стр. 291 - Heaven can forgive a crime to penitence, For Heaven can judge if penitence be true; But man, who knows not hearts, should make examples.
Стр. 177 - C'est changer de climat et non changer d'humeur. Hélas ! que nous prenons une peine inutile ! Sur les mers, sur la terre, on cherche le bonheur : Le bonheur est partout , aux champs comme à la ville ; II faut , pour le trouver, trouver la paix du cœur. J'extrais du portefeuille d'un de mes plus chers amis une imitation du début de la 7e épître.

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