The Works of the English Poets: With Prefaces, Biographical and Critical, 52. köideSamuel Johnson C. Bathurst, 1779 |
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Page 15
... must prove our lot ; A part which few poffefs ! I'll pay life's tax , Without one rebel murmur , from this hour , Nor think it mifery to be a man ; Who thinks it is , fhall never be a God . 410 415 Some ills we wish for , when we wish ...
... must prove our lot ; A part which few poffefs ! I'll pay life's tax , Without one rebel murmur , from this hour , Nor think it mifery to be a man ; Who thinks it is , fhall never be a God . 410 415 Some ills we wish for , when we wish ...
Page 28
... must be their ador'd . But They how weak , who could no higher mount ? And are there , then , Lorenzo ! Thofe , to whom Unfeen , and Unexiftent , are the fame ? And if incomprehenfible is join'd , Who dare pronounce it madness , to ...
... must be their ador'd . But They how weak , who could no higher mount ? And are there , then , Lorenzo ! Thofe , to whom Unfeen , and Unexiftent , are the fame ? And if incomprehenfible is join'd , Who dare pronounce it madness , to ...
Page 32
... must own the skies forgot . Much lefs in Art . - Vain Art ! Thou pigmy power ! How doft thou fwell and ftrut , with human pride , To fhew thy littleness ! What childish toys , Thy watery columns fquirted to the clouds ! Thy bafon'd ...
... must own the skies forgot . Much lefs in Art . - Vain Art ! Thou pigmy power ! How doft thou fwell and ftrut , with human pride , To fhew thy littleness ! What childish toys , Thy watery columns fquirted to the clouds ! Thy bafon'd ...
Page 28
... must be their ador'd . But They how weak , who could no higher mount ? And are there , then , Lorenzo ! Thofe , to whom Unfeen , and Unexiftent , are the same ? And if incomprehenfible is join'd , Who dare pronounce it madness , to ...
... must be their ador'd . But They how weak , who could no higher mount ? And are there , then , Lorenzo ! Thofe , to whom Unfeen , and Unexiftent , are the same ? And if incomprehenfible is join'd , Who dare pronounce it madness , to ...
Page 46
... prayer ! And what a fane is this , in which to pray ! 1355 And what a God muft dwell in fuch a fane ! O what a genius must inform the skies ! And * Page 22 . And is Lorenzo's falamander - heart Cold , and untouch'd 46 YOUNG'S POEMS .
... prayer ! And what a fane is this , in which to pray ! 1355 And what a God muft dwell in fuch a fane ! O what a genius must inform the skies ! And * Page 22 . And is Lorenzo's falamander - heart Cold , and untouch'd 46 YOUNG'S POEMS .
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Common terms and phrases
Æther art thou beams beneath bleffing blifs boaſt boundleſs breaſt Britain's caufe cauſe Codrus courſe darkneſs death defcend diſtant divine dread earth eternal facred fafe fame fate fatire feas fenfe fhall fhines fing firſt fkies flain flame fleep fmile fome fong fons forrow foul fpirits ftars ftill fublime fuch fwell genius glorious glory gods heart heaven human immortal juſt laſt lefs leſs Lorenzo man's mankind mighty mind moft moral moſt Mufe Muſe muſt nature nature's ne'er night numbers o'er pain paſt peace Pindar pleaſe pleaſure praife praiſe prefent pride profe proud raiſe reafon Refignation rife riſe ſcene ſenſe ſhall ſhine ſhore ſhould ſkies ſmile ſpeak ſphere ſpread ſprings ſtand ſtars ſtate ſtill ſtorm ſtream ſtrikes ſtrong ſuch ſweet thee thefe theſe thine thofe thoſe thou thought thouſand throne Trade virtue Voltaire whofe wing wiſdom
Popular passages
Page 37 - O that I could but reach the Tree of Life ! For Here it grows, unguarded from our tafte ; 1075 No Flaming S'word denies our entrance Here; Would man but gather, he might live for ever. Lorenzo ! much of Moral haft thou feen. Of curious arts art thou more fond ? Then mark The Mathematic glories of the fkies,
Page 4 - From human mould we reap our daily bread. The globe around earth's hollow furface makes, 95 'And is the cieling of her fleeping fons. O'er devaftation we blind revels keep; , Whole bury'd towns fupport the dancer's heel. The moift of human frame the
Page 73 - awake ! Thou, who fhalt wake, when the creation fleeps ; When, like a taper, all thefe funs expire; "When Time, like him of Gaza in his wrath, Plucking the pillars that fupport the world, In Nature's ample ruins lies intomb'd ; - And Midnight, Univerfal Midnight! reigns. -END OF THE NIGHT-THOUGHTS.
Page 49 - and fets to view Worlds beyond number ; worlds conceal'd by day Behind the proud, and envious ftar of noon ! 1685 Canft thou not draw a deeper fcene ?—And fhew The Mighty Potentate, to whom belong Thefe rich regalia pompoufly difplay'd To kindle that high hope ? Like him of Uz, I gaze around; I fearch on
Page 10 - Intent on man, and anxious for his fate. Angels look out for thee; for thee, their Lord, To vindicate his glory; and for thee, Creation univerfal calls aloud, To dif-involve the moral world, and give 260 To nature's renovation brighter charms. Shall man alone, whofe fate,
Page 1 - NIGHT THE NINTH AND LAST. THE CONSOLATION. CONTAINING, AMONG OTHER THINGS, I. A MORAL Survey of the NOCTURNAL Heavens. II. A NIGHT-ADDRESS to the DEITY. HUMBLY INSCRIBED TO HIS GRACE THE DUKE OF NEWCASTLE, ONE OF HIS MAJESTY'S PRINCIPAL SECRETARIES OF STATE.
Page 8 - Terror and glory join'd in their extremes ! Our God in grandeur, and our world on fire ! All nature ftruggling in the pangs of death ! Doft thou not hear her ? Doft thou not deplore Her ftrong convulfions, and her final groan
Page 51 - Who built thus high for worms (mere worms to Him) O where, Lorenzo ! muft the Builder dwell ? Paufe, then ; and, for a moment, here refpire— If human thought can keep its ftation here. Where am I ?—Where is earth ?—Nay, where art Thou O fun ?—Is the fun turn'd reclufe ?—And are His boafted expeditions
Page 43 - To dijbelieve, through mere credulity!" If, in this chain, Lorenzo finds no flaw, Let it for ever bind him to belief, And where the link, in which a flaw he finds ? And, if a God there is, that God how great
Page 89 - To touch our paflions' fecret fprings Was his peculiar care ; And deep his happy genius div'd In bofoms of the fair; Nature, which favours to the few, All art beyond, imparts, To him prefented at his birth, The key of human hearts. But not to me by him bequeath'd His gentle,