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

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Page 46 - AND is this all ? Can Reason do no more Than bid me shun the deep, and dread the shore ? Sweet moralist ! afloat on life's rough sea, The Christian has an art unknown to thee : He holds no parley with unmanly fears ; Where Duty bids he confidently steers, Faces a thousand dangers at her call, And, trusting in his God, surmounts them all.
Page 110 - O Hamlet, speak no more : Thou turn'st mine eyes into my very soul ; And there I see such black and grained spots As will not leave their tinct.
Page 18 - No object is more pleasing to the eye, than the sight of a man whom you have obliged ; nor any music so agreeable to the ear, as the voice of one that owns you for his benefactor.
Page 1 - Twas far from any path, but where .the earth Was bare, and naked all as at her birth, When by the word it first was made, Ere God had said, Let grass and herbs, and every green thing grow, With fruitful trees after their kind ; and it was so.
Page 19 - The universal cause Acts to one end, but acts by various laws.
Page 202 - ... lover and the loveliest maid. Then shall I cease to grieve, and not before ; Then shall I cease fair Delia to deplore. But see, those dreadful objects disappear! The Sun shines out, and all the heavens are clear < The warring winds are hush'd, the sea serene ; And Nature, soften'd, shifts her anpry scene.
Page 237 - ... studied and more cultivated. I am sure you made your sister and your father very happy and if I ever come to England I hope you will repeat your visit. The death of good Uncle Harry would distress you; he was kind and friendly, and I dare say died very happily. To tell you the truth, my dear sister, I have lived long enough in the world to know that there is no sense in lamenting the death of people ; indeed, to consider it not as a subject of lamentation. I do not know any thing the mind can...
Page 128 - BeforeH-eligion was a Myftick Trade, There was a time when Nature was obey'd; When happy Man was void of Crime or Fear, o His Friendfliip perfecr, and his Love fincere, SBoth as unbounded as the common Air.
Page 152 - Commands are born unheard away* Drown'd in the Roar of a far louder Sea. Yet, of themfelves, their Tasks the Sailors know, And are, by former Storms, inftrufted now.

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