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 5
Page
... of gnawing hunger , And piteous plaintive voice of inisery ( As if a slave was
not a shred of nature , Of the same common nature with his lord ) : Now tame and
humble , like a child that ' s whipp ' d , . Shakes hands with dust , and calls the ...
... of gnawing hunger , And piteous plaintive voice of inisery ( As if a slave was
not a shred of nature , Of the same common nature with his lord ) : Now tame and
humble , like a child that ' s whipp ' d , . Shakes hands with dust , and calls the ...
Page 8
Nor shall it hope in vain : the time draws on When not a single spot of burial -
earth , Whether on land , or in the spacious sea But must give back its long
committed dust Inviolate : and faithfully shall these Make up the full account ; not
the least ...
Nor shall it hope in vain : the time draws on When not a single spot of burial -
earth , Whether on land , or in the spacious sea But must give back its long
committed dust Inviolate : and faithfully shall these Make up the full account ; not
the least ...
Page 26
Nor shall it hope . in vain : the time draws on When not a single spot of burial -
earth , Whether on land , or in the spacious sea But must give back its long
committed dust Inviolate : and faithfully shall these Make up the full account ; not
the ...
Nor shall it hope . in vain : the time draws on When not a single spot of burial -
earth , Whether on land , or in the spacious sea But must give back its long
committed dust Inviolate : and faithfully shall these Make up the full account ; not
the ...
Page 30
Can Honour ' s voice provoke the silent dust , Or flattery sooth the duli cold ear of
Death ? Perhaps in this neglected spot is laid Some heart once pregnant with
celestial fire ; Hands that the rod of cipire might have sway ' d , Or wak ' d to ...
Can Honour ' s voice provoke the silent dust , Or flattery sooth the duli cold ear of
Death ? Perhaps in this neglected spot is laid Some heart once pregnant with
celestial fire ; Hands that the rod of cipire might have sway ' d , Or wak ' d to ...
Page 36
And rising joyful from their beds of dust , Ascend triumphant to the realms above .
Then shall the finish ' d bust , the sculptur ' d stone And all the labour of the artist '
s hand , Dissolve ; and virtue ' s solid base alone Amidst the gen ' ral wreck of ...
And rising joyful from their beds of dust , Ascend triumphant to the realms above .
Then shall the finish ' d bust , the sculptur ' d stone And all the labour of the artist '
s hand , Dissolve ; and virtue ' s solid base alone Amidst the gen ' ral wreck of ...
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...