The poetical works of Edward Young. Collated with the best eds.: by T. ParkStanhope Press for Sultaby, Evance and Fox, 1813 - 168 من الصفحات |
من داخل الكتاب
النتائج 1-5 من 35
الصفحة 5
... bid his conscious heart the Godhead own . Whom shalt thou not reform ? O thou hast seen How God descends to judge the souls of men . Thou heardst the sentence how the guilty mourn , Driven out from God , and never to return . Yet more ...
... bid his conscious heart the Godhead own . Whom shalt thou not reform ? O thou hast seen How God descends to judge the souls of men . Thou heardst the sentence how the guilty mourn , Driven out from God , and never to return . Yet more ...
الصفحة 6
... bids her fearless soar Where only Milton gain'd renown before ; Where various scenes alternately excite Amazement , pity , terror , and delight . Thus did the Muses sing in early times , Ere skill'd to flatter vice , and varnish crimes ...
... bids her fearless soar Where only Milton gain'd renown before ; Where various scenes alternately excite Amazement , pity , terror , and delight . Thus did the Muses sing in early times , Ere skill'd to flatter vice , and varnish crimes ...
الصفحة 18
... bids me give Swoln thought a second channel : who divide , They weaken , too , the torrent of their grief . Take , then , O World ! thy much - indebted tear . How sad a sight is human happiness To those , whose thought can pierce beyond ...
... bids me give Swoln thought a second channel : who divide , They weaken , too , the torrent of their grief . Take , then , O World ! thy much - indebted tear . How sad a sight is human happiness To those , whose thought can pierce beyond ...
الصفحة 23
... bids This midnight centinel , with clarion shrill , Emblem of that which shall awake the dead , Rouse souls from slumber , into thoughts of Heav'n . Shall I too weep ? where then is fortitude ? And fortitude abandon'd , where is man ? I ...
... bids This midnight centinel , with clarion shrill , Emblem of that which shall awake the dead , Rouse souls from slumber , into thoughts of Heav'n . Shall I too weep ? where then is fortitude ? And fortitude abandon'd , where is man ? I ...
الصفحة 32
... Bid Day stand Bid him drive back his car , and reimport The period past , regive the given hour . Lorenzo ! more than miracles we want . Lorenzo - O for yesterdays to come ! Such is the language of the man awake , His ardour such for ...
... Bid Day stand Bid him drive back his car , and reimport The period past , regive the given hour . Lorenzo ! more than miracles we want . Lorenzo - O for yesterdays to come ! Such is the language of the man awake , His ardour such for ...
عبارات ومصطلحات مألوفة
ambition angels archangels art thou beam beneath bids bless'd bliss blood divine boast boundless call'd canst charms Creation dark death deep Deity delight divine dost dread dream dust earth endless eternal ethereal Ev'n fair fate flame fond fool give glorious glory gods grave grief groan guilt happiness heart Heav'n hope hour human illustrious infidels life's light live Lorenzo man's mankind midnight mighty mind mortal Narcissa Nature Nature's ne'er night nought numbers o'er Omnipotence orbs ordain'd pain passion peace Philander pleasure poison'd praise pride proud Reason Reason sleeps rise sacred scene sense shades shines sigh sight skies smile song soul immortal sphere stars stings storm strange sublunary tempest thee theme thine thought throne thy disease tomb triumph truth Twill virtue Virtue's wing wisdom wise wish wonder wretched ye Stars
مقاطع مشهورة
الصفحة 11 - How poor, how rich, how abject, how august, How complicate, how wonderful, is man!
الصفحة 22 - Strikes thro' their wounded hearts the sudden dread ; But their hearts wounded, like the wounded air, Soon close ; where past the shaft no trace is found. As from the wing no scar the sky retains ; The parted wave no furrow from the keel ; So dies in human hearts the thought of death.
الصفحة 10 - Tis as the general pulse Of life stood still, and nature made a pause, An awful pause ! prophetic of her end.
الصفحة 9 - Nature's sweet restorer, balmy Sleep! He, like the world, his ready visit pays Where Fortune smiles ; the wretched he forsakes; Swift on his downy pinion flies from woe, And lights on lids unsullied with a tear.
الصفحة 21 - As duteous sons, our fathers were more wise. At thirty man suspects himself a fool ; Knows it at forty, and reforms his plan ; At fifty chides his infamous delay, Pushes his prudent purpose to Resolve; In all the magnanimity of thought Resolves, and re-resolves ; then dies the same. And why? Because he thinks himself immortal. All men think all men mortal, but themselves...
الصفحة 63 - Why all this toil for triumphs of an hour ? What though we wade in wealth, or soar in fame ? Earth's highest station ends in, " Here he lies," And " Dust to dust
الصفحة 59 - Death is the crown of life : Were death denied, poor man would live in vain ; Were death denied, to live would not be life ; Were death denied, even fools would wish to die. Death wounds to cure : we fall ; we rise ; we reign ! Spring from our fetters ; fasten in the skies ; Where blooming Eden withers in our sight : Death gives us more than was in Eden lost. This king of terrors is the prince of peace.
الصفحة 116 - One sun by day, by night ten thousand shine ; And light us deep into the Deity ; How boundless in magnificence and might! O what a confluence of ethereal fires, From urns unnumber'd, down the steep of heaven, Streams to a point, and centres in my sight ! Nor tarries there ; I feel it at my heart. My heart, at once, it humbles, and exalts ; Lays it in dust, and calls it to the skies.
الصفحة 16 - If so the tyrant, or his minion, doom. Want, and incurable disease, (fell pair !) On hopeless multitudes remorseless seize At once ; and make a refuge of the grave, How groaning hospitals eject their dead ! What numbers groan for sad admission there! What numbers, once in fortune's lap high-fed. Solicit the cold hand of charity ! To shock us more, solicit it in vain ! Ye...
الصفحة 13 - And is it in the flight of threescore years To push eternity from human thought, And smother souls immortal in the dust? A soul immortal, spending all her fires, Wasting her strength in strenuous idleness, Thrown into tumult, raptured, or alarm'd At aught this scene can threaten or indulge, Resembles ocean into tempest wrought, To waft a feather, or to drown a fly.