Sepulchrorum Inscriptiones: Or A Curious Collection of Above 900 of the Most Remarkable Epitaphs, Antient and Modern, Serious and Merry: In the Kingdoms of Great Britain, Ireland, &c. in English Verse. To which is Added, a Compleat Index of Each Person's Name, the Church, Town, Kingdom Or Country where They Were Interr'd, Том 1

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J. Cluer, A. Campbell, and B. Creake., 1727

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Сторінка 180 - LIKE as the damask rose you see, Or like the blossom on the tree, Or like the dainty flower of May, Or like the morning of the day, Or like the sun, or like the shade, Or like the gourd which Jonas had; Even such is man, whose thread is spun, Drawn out, and cut, and so is done.
Сторінка 291 - Thy life and worth, but he that hath liv'd so : He must have Wit to spare, and to hurl down, Enough to keep the gallants of the town. He must have Learning plenty ; both the Laws, Civil and common, to judge any cause. Divinity, great store, above the rest, Not of the last edition, but the best. He must...
Сторінка 43 - Justly each nation's speech to him was known ; Who for the world was made, not us alone. Nor ought the language of that man be less. Who in his breast had all things to express : We say that learning's endless, and blame Fate For not allowing life a longer date.
Сторінка 37 - To death itfelf now to betray. It grieves me when I fee what fate Does on the beft of mankind wait. Poets or lovers let them be, 'Tis neither love nor poefy Can arm, againft death's fmalleft dart,. The poet's head or lover's heart ; But when their life, in its decline, Touches th...
Сторінка 239 - An ill year of a Goodyer us bereft, Who gone to God, much lack of him here left: Full of good gifts, of body and of mind, Wife, comely, learned, eloquent and kind.
Сторінка 16 - Whose least perfection was large, and great Enough to make a common man compleat. A soul refin'd and cull'd from many men, That reconcil'd the sword unto the pen, Using both well. No proud forgetting Lord, But mindful of mean names and of his word.
Сторінка 9 - Right noble twice, by virtue and by birth, Of heaven lov'd and honour'd on the earth, His country's hope, his kindred's chief delight, My husband dear, more than this world's light, Death hath me reft. But I from Death will take His memory, to whom this tomb I make. John was his name (ah, was !) wretch, must I say ? Lord Russel once, now my tear-thirsty clay.
Сторінка 83 - Is here ascended ; whither neither time, Nor faith, nor hope, but only love can climb : Where being now enlightened she doth know The truth of all things which are talk'd below.
Сторінка 108 - I neede not in remembrance for to call His race, his youth, the hope had of him ay Since that in him doth...
Сторінка 8 - OH last and best of Scots ! who didst maintain Thy country's freedom from a foreign reign ; New people fill the land now thou art gone, New gods the temples, and new kings the throne. Scotland and thou did each in other live ; 5 Nor wouldst thou her, nor could she thee survive. Farewell, who dying didst support the state, And couldst not fall but with thy country's fate.

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