The British Poets: Including Translations ...C. Whittingham, 1822 |
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Page 34
... fate ; Who gave that angel - boy on whom he dotes ; And died to give him , orphan'd in his birth ! ( At the beginning of the Fifth Night ' we find- Lorenzo , to recriminate is just , I grant the man is vain who writes for praise . 6 ...
... fate ; Who gave that angel - boy on whom he dotes ; And died to give him , orphan'd in his birth ! ( At the beginning of the Fifth Night ' we find- Lorenzo , to recriminate is just , I grant the man is vain who writes for praise . 6 ...
Page 62
... fate . Night , sable goddess ! from her ebon throne , In rayless majesty , now stretches forth Her leaden sceptre o'er a slumbering world . Silence how dead ! and darkness how profound ! Nor eye nor listening ear an object finds ...
... fate . Night , sable goddess ! from her ebon throne , In rayless majesty , now stretches forth Her leaden sceptre o'er a slumbering world . Silence how dead ! and darkness how profound ! Nor eye nor listening ear an object finds ...
Page 67
... Fate . Each moment has its sickle , emulous Of Time's enormous scythe , whose ample sweep Strikes empires from the root ; each moment plays His little weapon in the narrower sphere Of sweet domestic comfort , and cuts down The fairest ...
... Fate . Each moment has its sickle , emulous Of Time's enormous scythe , whose ample sweep Strikes empires from the root ; each moment plays His little weapon in the narrower sphere Of sweet domestic comfort , and cuts down The fairest ...
Page 68
... fate ; Sweet comfort's blasted clusters I lament ; I tremble at the blessings once so dear , And every pleasure pains me to the heart . Yet why complain ? or why complain for one ? Hangs out the Sun his lustre but for me , 68 N. I. THE ...
... fate ; Sweet comfort's blasted clusters I lament ; I tremble at the blessings once so dear , And every pleasure pains me to the heart . Yet why complain ? or why complain for one ? Hangs out the Sun his lustre but for me , 68 N. I. THE ...
Page 69
... Fate entail'd The mother's throes on all of woman born ; Not more the children than sure heirs of pain . War , famine , pest , volcano , storm , and fire , Intestine broils , Oppression , with her heart Wrapp'd up in triple brass ...
... Fate entail'd The mother's throes on all of woman born ; Not more the children than sure heirs of pain . War , famine , pest , volcano , storm , and fire , Intestine broils , Oppression , with her heart Wrapp'd up in triple brass ...
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Common terms and phrases
ambition angels Anne Wharton art thou beam beneath bids bleeds bless'd bliss blood divine boundless Busiris call'd dark dead death Deity divine Dorset Downs dread dreams Duke of Wharton dust e'en earth Edward Young endless eternal fair fame fate fear fire flame folly fond fool friendship future genius give glorious glory grave grief guilt happiness heart Heaven hope hour human illustrious infidel labour life's light live Lorenzo Lyric Poetry man's mankind mortal Muse Narcissa Nature Nature's ne'er Night Thoughts nought numbers o'er pain passions peace Philander Pindaric pleasure poem poet poetry praise pride proud Reason Reason sleeps rich rise sacred says scene sense shade shines sigh skies smile song soul immortal stars strange thee theme thine throne tomb triumph truth virtue Virtue's wanted wing wing wisdom wise wish wretched Young
Popular passages
Page 63 - How poor, how rich, how abject, how august, How complicate, how wonderful, is man! How passing wonder He who made him such, Who centred in our make such strange extremes!
Page 63 - 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.
Page 93 - The chamber where the good man meets his fate Is privileged beyond the common walk Of virtuous life, quite in the verge of Heaven.
Page 103 - O'erwhelming turrets threaten ere they fall ; Volcanos bellow ere they disembogue ; Earth trembles ere her yawning jaws devour ; And smoke betrays the wide-consuming fire : Ruin from man is most conceal'd when near, And sends the dreadful tidings in the blow. Is this the flight of fancy ? Would it were ! Heaven's sovereign saves all beings, but himself, That hideous sight, a naked human heart.
Page 184 - The meanest slave ; all more is merit's due, Her sacred and inviolable right Nor ever paid the monarch, but the man. Our hearts ne'er bow but to superior worth ; Nor ever fail of their allegiance there. Fools, indeed, drop the man in their account, And vote the mantle into majesty.
Page 196 - Horrid with frost, and turbulent with storm, Blows autumn, and his golden fruits, away : Then melts into the spring : soft spring, with breath Favonian, from warm chambers of the south, Recalls the first. All, to re-flourish, fades ; As in a wheel, all sinks, to re-ascend. Emblems of man, who passes, not expires.
Page 64 - O'er fairy fields ; or mourn'd along the gloom Of pathless woods ; or, down the craggy steep Hurl'd headlong, swam with pain the mantled pool ; Or scaled the cliff; or danced on hollow winds, With antic shapes, wild natives of the brain...
Page 83 - But why on time so lavish is my song? On this great theme kind Nature keeps a school To teach her sons herself. Each night we die; Each morn are born anew; each day a life!
Page 184 - But wherefore envy \ Talents angel-bright, If wanting worth, are shining instruments In false ambition's hand, to finish faults Illustrious, and give infamy renown.
Page 71 - There's no prerogative in human hours. In human hearts what bolder thought can rise, Than man's presumption on to-morrow's dawn? Where is to-morrow? In another world. For numbers this is certain; the reverse Is sure to none: and yet on this perhaps...