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 8
Live then , while Heav ' n in pity lends thee life , And think it all too short to wash
away , . ! . By penitential tears and deep contrition , The scarlet of thy crimes . So
shalt thou find . Rest to thy soul ; so unappallid shall meet : * Death when he ...
Live then , while Heav ' n in pity lends thee life , And think it all too short to wash
away , . ! . By penitential tears and deep contrition , The scarlet of thy crimes . So
shalt thou find . Rest to thy soul ; so unappallid shall meet : * Death when he ...
Page 8
To bleed for " man , to teach him how to live , And , Oh ! still harder lesson ; how
to die ; Disdain not thou to smooth the restless bed Of Sickness and of Pain .
Forgive the tear That feeble Nature drops , calm all her fears , Wake all her hopes
...
To bleed for " man , to teach him how to live , And , Oh ! still harder lesson ; how
to die ; Disdain not thou to smooth the restless bed Of Sickness and of Pain .
Forgive the tear That feeble Nature drops , calm all her fears , Wake all her hopes
...
Page 32
On some fond breast the parting soul relies , Some pious drops the closing eye
requires ; E ' en from the tomb the voice of Nature cries , E ' en in our ashes live
their wonted fires . • For thee , who mindful of th ' unhonour ' d Dead , Dost in
these ...
On some fond breast the parting soul relies , Some pious drops the closing eye
requires ; E ' en from the tomb the voice of Nature cries , E ' en in our ashes live
their wonted fires . • For thee , who mindful of th ' unhonour ' d Dead , Dost in
these ...
Page
Live then , while Heav ' n in pity lends thee life , And think it all too short to wash
away , . . By penitential tears and deep contrition , The scarlet of thy crimes . So
shalt thou find Rest to thy soul ; so unappalld shall meet Death when he comes ...
Live then , while Heav ' n in pity lends thee life , And think it all too short to wash
away , . . By penitential tears and deep contrition , The scarlet of thy crimes . So
shalt thou find Rest to thy soul ; so unappalld shall meet Death when he comes ...
Page
To bleed for man , to teach him how to live , And , Oh ! still harder lesson ; how to
dic ; Disdain not thou to smooth the restless bed Of Sickness and of Pain .
Forgive the tear That feeble Nature drops , calm all her fears , Wake all her hopes
, and ...
To bleed for man , to teach him how to live , And , Oh ! still harder lesson ; how to
dic ; Disdain not thou to smooth the restless bed Of Sickness and of Pain .
Forgive the tear That feeble Nature drops , calm all her fears , Wake all her hopes
, and ...
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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...