Illustrations of Human Life, Том 3

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H. Colburn, 1837
 

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Сторінка 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...
Сторінка 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.
Сторінка 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...
Сторінка 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.
Сторінка 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...
Сторінка 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.
Сторінка 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.
Сторінка 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.
Сторінка 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...
Сторінка 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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