The poetical works of ... E. Young. With the life of the author. Cooke's ed, Volume 11799 |
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ambition angels art thou beſt bleſs'd blifs bliſs boſom cauſe cloſe dæmons dark darkneſs death defcend Deity deſpair diſtant divine dread duſt earth eternal ev'ry facred fame fate fenfe figh fight firſt fome fong fons foon forrow foul fuch fure glory grave grief guilt happineſs heart heaven human immortal inſpire itſelf juſt laſt leſs life's Lorenzo man's mortal moſt Muſe muſt Nature Nature's ne'er night nought numbers o'er paffions pain paſt peace pleaſure pow'r praife praiſe preſent pride proud raiſe reaſon reſt rife riſe ſcene ſcorn ſeen ſenſe ſet ſhades ſhall ſhame ſhare ſhe ſhew ſhines ſhort ſhould ſkies ſmall ſmile ſome ſpeak ſphere ſpirit ſtand ſtars ſtate ſtill ſtorm ſtrange ſtream ſtrikes ſuch ſweet thee theme theſe thine thoſe thou thought thro throne truth univerſe vaſt virtue waſte whoſe wife wing wisdom wretched
Popular passages
Page 43 - The chamber where the good man meets his fate, Is privileg'd beyond the common walk Of virtuous life, quite in the verge of heav'n.
Page 25 - tis madness to defer ; Next day the fatal precedent will plead ; Thus on, till wisdom is push'd out of life. Procrastination is the thief of time ; Year after year it steals, till all are fled, And to the mercies of a moment leaves The vast concerns of an eternal scene.
Page 15 - From short (as usual) and disturb'd repose I wake : how happy they who wake no more ! Yet that were vain, if dreams infest the grave.
Page 197 - All the black cares and tumults of this life, Like harmless thunders, breaking at his feet, Excite his pity, not impair his peace.
Page 57 - While reason and religion, better taught, Congratulate the dead, and crown his tomb With wreath triumphant.
Page 62 - From darkness, teeming darkness, where I lay The worm's inferior, and, in rank, beneath The dust I tread on, high to bear my brow, To drink the spirit of the golden day, And triumph in existence ; and couldst know No motive, but my bliss ; and hast ordain'd A rise in blessing ! with the patriarch's joy...
Page 30 - How heavily we drag the load of life! Blest leisure is our curse; like that of Cain, It makes us wander, wander earth around, To fly that tyrant Thought. As Atlas groan'd The world beneath, we groan beneath an hour.
Page 25 - How excellent that life they ne'er will lead! Time lodg'd in their own hands is Folly's vails ; That lodg'd in Fate's to wisdom they consign ; The thing they can't but purpose they postpone.
Page 119 - Enjoy the various riches nature yields ; Far nobler ! give the riches they enjoy ; Give taste to fruits ; and harmony to groves ; Their radiant beams to gold, and gold's bright...
Page 21 - Here, plung'd in mines, forgets a sun was made. There, beings deathless as their haughty lord, Are hammer'd to the galling oar for life ; And plough the winter's wave, and reap despair. Some, for hard masters, broken under arms, In battle lopt away, with half their limbs, Beg bitter bread thro' realms their valour sav'd, If so the tyrant, or his minion, doom.