The grave, a poem. To which are added An elegy in a country church-yard, by Gray. Death, a poem, by bishop Porteus [&c.]. |
From inside the book
Results 1-5 of 6
Page 1
With anguish heavy laden ; let me trace it : Fom yonder bed it comes , where the
strong man , By stronger arm belal our ' d , gasps for breath Like a hard hunted
beast . How his great heart Beats thick ; his roomy chest by far too scant . " To
give ...
With anguish heavy laden ; let me trace it : Fom yonder bed it comes , where the
strong man , By stronger arm belal our ' d , gasps for breath Like a hard hunted
beast . How his great heart Beats thick ; his roomy chest by far too scant . " To
give ...
Page 8
... for this Thy breath divine kindled within his breast The vital flame ? For this was
thy fair image Stampt on his soul in godlike lineaments ? . . For this dominion giv '
n him absolute O ' er all thy works , only that he might reign Supreme in woe ?
... for this Thy breath divine kindled within his breast The vital flame ? For this was
thy fair image Stampt on his soul in godlike lineaments ? . . For this dominion giv '
n him absolute O ' er all thy works , only that he might reign Supreme in woe ?
Page 8
Will fame , who oft denies her children bread , Deceive the living , discompose
the dead i No ; fame ' s a breath , it cannot worth supply , Nor yield you comfort
when you come to die ; In my dark realms all opposites agree , The heirs of
wealth ...
Will fame , who oft denies her children bread , Deceive the living , discompose
the dead i No ; fame ' s a breath , it cannot worth supply , Nor yield you comfort
when you come to die ; In my dark realms all opposites agree , The heirs of
wealth ...
Page 45
... at his heels : Full fast he flies , and dares not look behind him , Till out of breath
he overtakes his fellows ; Who gather round , and wonder at the tale Of horrid
apparition , tall and ghastly , Who walks at dead of night , or takes his stand .
... at his heels : Full fast he flies , and dares not look behind him , Till out of breath
he overtakes his fellows ; Who gather round , and wonder at the tale Of horrid
apparition , tall and ghastly , Who walks at dead of night , or takes his stand .
Page 11
With anguish heavy laden ; let me trace it : Fom yonder bed it comes , where the
strong man By stronger arm belatourd , gasps for breath Like a hard hunted beast
. How his great heart Beats thick ; his roomy chest by far too scant . To give the ...
With anguish heavy laden ; let me trace it : Fom yonder bed it comes , where the
strong man By stronger arm belatourd , gasps for breath Like a hard hunted beast
. How his great heart Beats thick ; his roomy chest by far too scant . To give the ...
What people are saying - Write a review
We haven't found any reviews in the usual places.
Other editions - View all
The Grave, a Poem. to Which Are Added an Elegy in a Country Church-Yard, by ... Robert Blair No preview available - 2016 |
Common terms and phrases
aged bear beneath blood boast breath cheer close comes common course dark dead Death deep dread drops dust earth ev'n ev'ry face fair fall fame fire gentle give grave half hand happy hard hast head hear heart Heav'n hope horrors hour joys keep Labour leave lies life's live look mankind Mark means meet mighty nature ne'er never night o'er once pain path Peace poor pow'r proud realms rest rise rose round rude ruin Save scarce shade short sight silence smile sons soon soul sound spoils stand steps stone stood strange stream sudden Sure sweet tell thee thick thine thing thou thought thousand thro toil tomb warm weary Whilst whole winds wreck wretch yonder youth
Popular passages
Page 8 - For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn, Or busy housewife ply her evening care ; No children run to lisp their sire's return, Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share. Oft did the harvest to their sickle yield, Their furrow oft the stubborn glebe has broke ; How jocund did they drive their team a-field ! How bow'd the woods beneath their sturdy stroke...
Page 8 - Graved on the stone beneath yon aged thorn.' The Epitaph Here rests his head upon the lap of Earth, A youth, to fortune and to fame unknown: Fair science frown'd not on his humble birth, And melancholy mark'd him for her own.
Page 8 - With uncouth rhymes and shapeless sculpture decked, Implores the passing tribute of a sigh. Their name, their years, spelt by the unlettered muse, The place of fame and elegy supply; And many a holy text around she strews, That teach the rustic moralist to die.
Page 8 - Can storied urn or animated bust Back to its mansion call the fleeting breath? Can Honour's voice provoke the silent dust, Or Flattery soothe the dull cold ear of death?
Page 8 - Forbade to wade through slaughter to a throne, And shut the gates of mercy on mankind; The struggling pangs of conscious truth...