Illustrations of Human Life, Band 3

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Seite 195 - ... twas wild. But thou, O HOPE ! with eyes so fair, What was thy delighted measure ? Still it whispered promised pleasure, And bade the lovely scenes at distance haiL...
Seite 221 - Imagine howling ! —'tis too horrible ! The weariest and most loathed worldly life, That age, ache, penury, and imprisonment Can lay on nature, is a paradise To what we fear of death.
Seite 55 - I'll give my jewels for a set of beads, My gorgeous palace for a hermitage, My gay apparel for an alms-man's gown, My...
Seite 120 - E'en the last lingering fiction of the brain, The church-yard ghost, is now at rest again; And all these wayward wanderings of my youth Fly Reason's power and shun the light of truth.
Seite 118 - Critics I saw, that other names deface, And fix their own, with labour, in their place : Their own, like others, soon their place resign'd, Or disappear'd. and left the first behind. Nor was the work impair'd by storms alone, But felt th...
Seite 160 - Whose midnight revels by a forest side Or fountain some belated peasant sees, Or dreams he sees, while overhead the moon Sits arbitress, and nearer to the earth Wheels her pale course ; they, on their mirth and dance Intent, with jocund music charm his ear; At once with joy and fear his heart rebounds.
Seite 129 - The school's lone porch, with reverend mosses gray, Just tells the pensive pilgrim where it lay. Mute is the bell that rung at peep of dawn, Quickening my truant feet across the lawn ; Unheard the shout that rent the noontide air When the slow dial gave a pause to care.
Seite 105 - I am myself indifferent honest; but yet I could accuse me of such things, that it were better, my mother had not borne me: I am very proud, revengeful, ambitious; with more offences at my beck, than I have thoughts to put them in, imagination to give them shape, or time to act them in: What should such fellows as I do crawling between earth and heaven? We are arrant knaves, all; believe none of us: Go thy ways to a nunnery.
Seite 63 - To kings that fear their subjects' treachery? O, yes, it doth; a thousand-fold it doth! And to conclude, the shepherd's homely curds, His cold thin drink out of his leather bottle, His wonted sleep under a fresh tree's shade, All which secure and sweetly he enjoys...
Seite 72 - By sighs, and tears, and grief alone: I greet her as the fiend, to whom belong The vulture's ravening beak, the raven's funeral song.

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