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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الصفحة 7
... Proud royalty ! how alter'd in thy looks ! How blank thy features , and how wan thy hue ! Son of the morning ! whither art thou gone ? Where hast thou hid thy many - spangled head , And the majestic menace of thine eyes Felt from afar ...
... Proud royalty ! how alter'd in thy looks ! How blank thy features , and how wan thy hue ! Son of the morning ! whither art thou gone ? Where hast thou hid thy many - spangled head , And the majestic menace of thine eyes Felt from afar ...
الصفحة 8
... picture , ' The Painter casts discreetly into shades . Proud lineage now how little thou appear'st ! Felow the envy of the private man ! Honor , that meddlesome officious ill , Pursues thee ev'n to death ; nor there stops shorts THE GRAVE .
... picture , ' The Painter casts discreetly into shades . Proud lineage now how little thou appear'st ! Felow the envy of the private man ! Honor , that meddlesome officious ill , Pursues thee ev'n to death ; nor there stops shorts THE GRAVE .
الصفحة 12
... proud man ! Great heights are hazardous to the weak head : Soon , very soon , thy firmest footing fails ; And down thou dropp'st into that darksome place , Where nor device nor knowledge ever came . Here the tongue - warrior lies ...
... proud man ! Great heights are hazardous to the weak head : Soon , very soon , thy firmest footing fails ; And down thou dropp'st into that darksome place , Where nor device nor knowledge ever came . Here the tongue - warrior lies ...
الصفحة 13
... Proud Esculapius ' son ,. Where are thy boasted implements of art , And all thy well . cram'd magazines of health Nor hill , nor vale , as far as ship could go , Nor margin of the gravel - bottom'd brook , Escap'd thy rifling hand ...
... Proud Esculapius ' son ,. Where are thy boasted implements of art , And all thy well . cram'd magazines of health Nor hill , nor vale , as far as ship could go , Nor margin of the gravel - bottom'd brook , Escap'd thy rifling hand ...
الصفحة 18
... , the Christian Here the proud prince , and favourite yet prouder , His sov'reign's keeper , and the people's scourge , Are huddled out of sight . Here lie abash'd The great negociators of the earth , And celebrated masters 18 THE GRAVE .
... , the Christian Here the proud prince , and favourite yet prouder , His sov'reign's keeper , and the people's scourge , Are huddled out of sight . Here lie abash'd The great negociators of the earth , And celebrated masters 18 THE GRAVE .
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عبارات ومصطلحات مألوفة
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
مقاطع مشهورة
الصفحة 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...
الصفحة 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.
الصفحة 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.
الصفحة 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?
الصفحة 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.
الصفحة 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...
الصفحة 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.
الصفحة 31 - Forbade to wade through slaughter to a throne, And shut the gates of mercy on mankind; The struggling pangs of conscious truth...
الصفحة 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.