The Rambler [by S. Johnson and others]. [Another], Volume 2

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Page 441 - So much I feel my genial spirits droop, My hopes all flat, nature within me seems In all her functions weary of herself ; My race of glory run, and race of shame, And I shall shortly be with them that rest.
Page 136 - Soft is the strain when Zephyr gently blows, And the smooth stream in smoother numbers flows ; But when loud surges lash the sounding shore, The hoarse, rough verse should like the torrent roar.
Page 104 - ... harmonically conjoined, and, by consequence, the flow of the verse is longer interrupted, It is pronounced by Dryden, that a line of monosyllables is almost always harsh. This, with regard to our language, is evidently true, not because monosyllables cannot compose harmony, but because our monosyllables being of Teutonick original, or formed by contraction, commonly begin and end with consonants, as, • Every lower faculty Of sense, whereby they hear, see, smell, touch, taste.
Page 443 - The Sun to me is dark And silent as the Moon, When she deserts the night Hid in her vacant interlunar cave. Since light so necessary is to life, And almost life itself, if it be true That light is in the Soul, She all in every part; why was the sight To such a tender ball as the eye confined?
Page 435 - He tugg'd, he shook, till down they came and drew The whole roof after them, with burst of thunder Upon the heads of all who sat beneath, Lords, ladies, captains, counsellors...
Page 148 - I fled, and cried out Death; Hell trembled at the hideous name, and sighed From all her caves, and back resounded Death.
Page 120 - gan war, and fowl with fowl, And fish with fish ; to graze the herb all leaving Devour'd each other ; nor stood much in awe Of man, but fled him, or, with countenance grim, Glared on him passing.
Page 411 - Who dares think one thing, and another tell, My heart detests him as the gates of hell.
Page 94 - But thou hast promised from us two a race To fill the earth, who shall with us extol Thy goodness infinite ; both when we wake, And when we seek, as now, thy gift of sleep.
Page 105 - ... to the ground With solemn adoration down they cast Their crowns inwove with amarant and gold ; Immortal amarant, a flower which once In Paradise, fast by the tree of life, Began to bloom ; but soon for man's offence...

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