The Works of the English Poets: With Prefaces, Biographical and Critical, Volumes 32-34 |
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Page 32
What future bliss , he gives not thee to know , But gives that Hope to be thy
blessing now . Hope springs eternal in the human breast : 95 Man never Is , but
always To be blest : The soul , uneasy , and confin'd from home , Rests and
expatiates ...
What future bliss , he gives not thee to know , But gives that Hope to be thy
blessing now . Hope springs eternal in the human breast : 95 Man never Is , but
always To be blest : The soul , uneasy , and confin'd from home , Rests and
expatiates ...
Page 75
Why is not Man a God , and Earth a Heaven ? Who ask and reason thus , will
scarce conceive God gives enough , while he has more to give ; Immense the
power , immense were the demand ; Say , at what part of nature will they stand ?
Why is not Man a God , and Earth a Heaven ? Who ask and reason thus , will
scarce conceive God gives enough , while he has more to give ; Immense the
power , immense were the demand ; Say , at what part of nature will they stand ?
Page 104
255 “ I give and I devise ( old Euclio said , And figh'd ) my lands and tenements to
Ned . ” Your money , Sir ? " My money , Sir , what all ? “ Why , -if I must- ( then
wept ) I give it Paul . ” The manor , Sir ? _ “ The manor ! hold , he cry'd . 260 “ Not
...
255 “ I give and I devise ( old Euclio said , And figh'd ) my lands and tenements to
Ned . ” Your money , Sir ? " My money , Sir , what all ? “ Why , -if I must- ( then
wept ) I give it Paul . ” The manor , Sir ? _ “ The manor ! hold , he cry'd . 260 “ Not
...
Page 121
B. Say ? Why take it , Gold and all . P. What Riches give us , let us then inquire ?
Meat , Fire , and Cloaths . B. What more ? P. Meat , Cloaths , and Fire . 80 Is this
too little ? would you more than live ? Alas ! ' tis more than Turner finds they give .
B. Say ? Why take it , Gold and all . P. What Riches give us , let us then inquire ?
Meat , Fire , and Cloaths . B. What more ? P. Meat , Cloaths , and Fire . 80 Is this
too little ? would you more than live ? Alas ! ' tis more than Turner finds they give .
Page 218
Morality , by her false Guardians drawn , Chicane in Furs , and Casuistry in Lawn
, Gafps , as they straiten at each end the cord , And dies , when Dulness gives her
Page the word . 30 Mad Mathesis alone was unconfin'd , ' Too mad for mere ...
Morality , by her false Guardians drawn , Chicane in Furs , and Casuistry in Lawn
, Gafps , as they straiten at each end the cord , And dies , when Dulness gives her
Page the word . 30 Mad Mathesis alone was unconfin'd , ' Too mad for mere ...
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Popular passages
Page 46 - Presume thy bolts to throw, And deal damnation round the land On each I judge thy foe. If I am right, thy grace impart, Still in the right to stay; If I am wrong, oh teach my heart To find that better way...
Page 81 - HAPPY the man whose wish and care A few paternal acres bound, Content to breathe his native air, In his own ground ; Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread, Whose flocks supply him with attire ; Whose trees in Summer yield him shade, In Winter fire.
Page 145 - How lov'd , how honour'd once , avails thee not, To whom related, or by whom begot; A heap of dust alone remains of thee, 'Tis all thou art, and all the proud shall be!
Page 18 - Nor think, in Nature's state they blindly trod; The state of Nature was the reign of God: Self-love and social at her birth began, Union the bond of all things, and of man.
Page 107 - I said; Tie up the knocker, say I'm sick, I'm dead. The Dog-star rages! nay 'tis past a doubt, All Bedlam, or Parnassus, is let out: Fire in each eye, and papers in each hand, They rave, recite, and madden round the land.
Page 174 - But o'er the twilight groves and dusky caves, Long-sounding aisles and intermingled graves, Black Melancholy sits, and round her throws A death-like silence, and a dread repose : Her gloomy presence saddens all the scene, Shades every flower, and darkens every green ; Deepens the murmur of the falling floods, And breathes a browner horror on the woods.
Page 101 - Though oft the ear the open vowels tire; While expletives their feeble aid do join; And ten low words oft creep in one dull line: While they ring round the same unvaried chimes With sure returns of still expected rhymes: Where'er you find "the cooling western breeze...
Page 353 - The latent tracts, the giddy heights, explore Of all who blindly creep, or sightless soar; Eye Nature's walks, shoot Folly as it flies, And catch the manners living as they rise; Laugh where we must, be candid where we can; But vindicate the ways of God to man.
Page 122 - If on a pillory, or near a throne, He gain his prince's ear, or lose his own. Yet soft by nature, more a dupe than wit, Sappho can tell you how this man was bit...