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Seite 224 - Time which antiquates antiquities, and hath an art to make dust of all things, hath yet spared these minor monuments. In vain we hope to be known by open and visible conservatories, when to be unknown was the means of their continuation, and obscurity their protection.
Seite 226 - What time the persons of these ossuaries entered the " famous nations of the dead," and slept with princes and counsellors, might admit a wide solution. But who were the proprietaries of these bones, or what bodies these ashes made up, were a question above antiquarism : not to be resolved by man, nor easily perhaps by spirits, except we consult the provincial guardians, or tutelary observators.
Seite 231 - ... tis all one to lie in St. Innocent's churchyard, as in the sands of Egypt: ready to be anything, in the ecstasy of being ever, and as content with six foot as the moles of Adrianus.
Seite 331 - I, once gone, to all the world must die : The earth can yield me but a common grave, When you entombed in men's eyes shall lie. Your monument shall be my gentle verse, Which eyes not yet created shall o'er-read ; And tongues to be your being shall rehearse, When all the breathers of this world are dead ; You still shall live — such virtue hath my pen — Where breath most breathes, even in the mouths of men.
Seite 226 - And therefore restless inquietude for the diuturnity of our memories unto present considerations, seems a vanity almost out of date, and superannuated piece of folly. We cannot hope to live so long in our names as some have done in their persons ; one face of Janus holds no proportion unto the other.
Seite 187 - Tis reason a man that will have a wife should be at the charge of her trinkets, and pay all the scores she sets on him. He that will keep a monkey, 'tis fit he should pay for the glasses he breaks.
Seite 159 - But if (fie of such a but) you be born so near the dull-making cataract of Nilus that you cannot hear the planet-like music of Poetry, if you have so earth-creeping a mind that it cannot lift itself up to look to the sky of Poetry, or rather, by a certain rustical disdain, will become such a Mome as to be a Momus of Poetry...
Seite 115 - Poetry, when 5 with the force of a divine breath he bringeth things forth far surpassing her doings, with no small argument to the incredulous of that first accursed fall of Adam: since our erected wit maketh us know what perfection is, and yet our infected will keepeth us from reaching unto it.
Seite 384 - Keen Pangs of Love, awakening as a babe Turbulent, with an outcry in the heart ; And Fears self-willed, that shunned the eye of Hope; And Hope that scarce would know itself from Fear ; Sense of past Youth, and Manhood come in vain, And Genius given, and Knowledge won in vain...