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Сторінка 179 - EVEN such is time, that takes in trust Our youth, our joys, our all we have, And pays us but with age and dust ; Who in the dark and silent grave, When we have wandered all our ways, Shuts up the story of our days ; But from this earth, this grave, this dust, My God shall raise me up, I trust.
Сторінка 205 - WHEN I am in a serious humour, I very often walk by myself in Westminster Abbey: where the gloominess of the place, and the use to which it is applied, with the solemnity of the building, and the condition of the people who lie in it, are apt to fill the mind with a kind of melancholy, or rather thoughtfulness that is not disagreeable.
Сторінка 201 - Life is a jest, and all things show it, I thought so once, but now I know it, with what more you may think proper.
Сторінка 211 - Kneller, by Heaven, and not a master taught, Whose art was nature, and whose pictures thought ; Now for two ages, having snatch'd from fate Whate'er was beauteous, or whate'er was great, Lies crown'd with Princes' honours, Poets' lays, Due to his merit, and brave thirst of praise.
Сторінка 420 - E'en such is man; whose thread is spun, Drawn out, and cut, and so is done. The rose withers, the blossom blasteth; The flower fades, the morning hasteth; The sun sets, the shadow flies; The gourd consumes, — and man he dies...
Сторінка 370 - Immediately a place Before his eyes appeared, sad, noisome, dark; A lazar-house it seemed, wherein were laid Numbers of all diseased, all maladies Of ghastly spasm, or racking torture, qualms Of heart-sick agony; all feverous kinds, Convulsions, epilepsies, fierce catarrhs, Intestine stone and ulcer, colic pangs, Demoniac frenzy, moping melancholy, And moon-struck madness, pining atrophy, Marasmus, and wide-wasting pestilence, Dropsies, and asthmas, and joint-racking rheums.
Сторінка 205 - When I see kings lying by those who deposed them, when I consider rival wits placed side by side, or the holy men that divided the world with their contests and disputes, I reflect with sorrow and astonishment on the little competitions, factions, and debates of mankind.
Сторінка 132 - ... air, the graceful maiden, with the pitcher on her head, descending the steps to the river-side, the black faces, the long beards, the yellow streaks of sect, the turbans and the flowing robes, the spears and the silver maces, the elephants with their canopies of state, the gorgeous palanquin of the prince, and the close litter of the noble lady, all these things were to him as the objects amidst which his own life had been passed, as the objects which lay on the road between Beaconsfield and...
Сторінка 9 - Park to the garden, where I both saw and heard a very familiar discourse between and Mrs. Nelly, f as they called an impudent comedian, she looking out of her garden on a terrace at the top of the wall, and standing on the green walk under it. I was heartily sorry at this scene.