The Poetical Works of John Dryden, Том 2

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Little, Brown,, 1854 - 324 стор.

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Сторінка 80 - Dim as the borrow'd beams of moon and stars To lonely, weary, wandering travellers, Is reason to the soul: and as on high, Those rolling fires discover but the sky, Not light us here; so reason's glimmering ray Was lent, not to assure our doubtful way, But guide us upward to a better day. And as those nightly tapers disappear When day's bright lord ascends our hemisphere; So pale grows reason at religion's sight; So dies, and so dissolves in supernatural light.
Сторінка 81 - Thus, anxious thoughts in endless circles roll, Without a centre where to fix the soul: In this wild maze their vain endeavours end: How can the less the greater comprehend ? Or finite reason reach infinity ? For what could fathom God were more than he.
Сторінка 125 - Hence they began, and here they all will end. What weight of ancient witness can prevail, If private reason hold the public scale ? But, gracious God, how well dost Thou provide For erring judgments an unerring guide ! Thy throne is darkness in the abyss of light, A blaze of glory that forbids the sight.
Сторінка 233 - Through all the realms of Nonsense, absolute. This aged prince, now flourishing in peace, And blest with issue of a large increase...
Сторінка 126 - Follow'd false lights; and when their glimpse was gone, My pride struck out new sparkles of her own. Such was I, such by nature still I am; Be thine the glory, and be mine the shame. Good life be now my task; my doubts are done: What more could fright my faith, than Three in One?
Сторінка 20 - Round as a globe, and liquor'd every chink, Goodly and great he sails behind his link; With all this bulk there's nothing lost in Og, For every inch that is not fool is rogue: A monstrous mass of foul corrupted matter, As all the devils had spew'd to make the batter.
Сторінка 233 - Shadwell alone, of all my sons, is he Who stands confirm'd in full stupidity : The rest to some faint meaning make pretence, But Shadwell never deviates into sense.
Сторінка 96 - Tis some relief, that points not clearly known, Without much hazard, may be let alone ; And, after hearing what our church can say, If still our reason runs another way, That private reason 'tis more just to curb, Than by disputes the public peace disturb : For points obscure are of small use to learn, But common quiet is mankind's concern...
Сторінка 240 - In thy felonious heart though venom lies It does but touch thy Irish pen, and dies.* Thy genius calls thee not to purchase fame In keen iambics, but mild anagram. Leave writing plays, and choose for thy command Some peaceful province in acrostic land: There thou mayest wings display and altars raise,* And torture one poor word ten thousand ways.
Сторінка 85 - Whence but from Heaven could men, unskilled in arts, In several ages born, in several parts, Weave such agreeing truths? or how or why Should all conspire to cheat us with a lie? Unasked their pains, ungrateful their advice, Starving their gain and martyrdom their price.

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