The grave, a poem. To which are added An elegy in a country church-yard, by Gray. Death, a poem, by bishop Porteus [&c.]. |
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Page 3
... And vex ' d them in the fire ; nor fly , nor insect , Nor writhy snake , escap ' d thy
deep research . But why this apparatus ? why this cost ? Tell us , thuu doughty
keeper from the grave ! Where are thy recipes and cordịals now , With the long
list ...
... And vex ' d them in the fire ; nor fly , nor insect , Nor writhy snake , escap ' d thy
deep research . But why this apparatus ? why this cost ? Tell us , thuu doughty
keeper from the grave ! Where are thy recipes and cordịals now , With the long
list ...
Page 8
Foremost Old Age , his natural ally And firmest friend ; next him Diseases thick , A
moiley train ; Fever , with cheek of fire ; . Consumption wan ; Palsy , half warm
with life , And half a clay clod lump ; joint - tort ' ring Gout , And ever - gnawing ...
Foremost Old Age , his natural ally And firmest friend ; next him Diseases thick , A
moiley train ; Fever , with cheek of fire ; . Consumption wan ; Palsy , half warm
with life , And half a clay clod lump ; joint - tort ' ring Gout , And ever - gnawing ...
Page 13
... And vex ' d them in the fire ; nor fly , nor insect , Nor writhy snake , escap ' d thy
deep research . But why this apparatus ? why this cost ? Tell us , thuu doughty
keeper from the grave ! Where are thy recipes and cordials now , With the long
list ...
... And vex ' d them in the fire ; nor fly , nor insect , Nor writhy snake , escap ' d thy
deep research . But why this apparatus ? why this cost ? Tell us , thuu doughty
keeper from the grave ! Where are thy recipes and cordials now , With the long
list ...
Page 22
The fierce volcano , from its burning entrails That belches molten stone and
globes of fire , Involv ' d in pitchy clouds of smoke and stench , Mars the adjacent
fields for some leagues round , And there it stops . The big swoln inundation , Of ...
The fierce volcano , from its burning entrails That belches molten stone and
globes of fire , Involv ' d in pitchy clouds of smoke and stench , Mars the adjacent
fields for some leagues round , And there it stops . The big swoln inundation , Of ...
Page 30
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 ecstacy the living
lyre . - • But Knowledge to their eyes her ample page Rich with the spoils of ...
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 ecstacy the living
lyre . - • But Knowledge to their eyes her ample page Rich with the spoils of ...
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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...