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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Here too the petty tyrant , Whose scant domains geographer ne ' er notic ' d , And
well for neighbʼring grounds of arm as short ; Who fix ' d his iron talons on the
poor , And grip ' d them like some lordly beast of prey , Deaf to the forceful cries of
...
Here too the petty tyrant , Whose scant domains geographer ne ' er notic ' d , And
well for neighbʼring grounds of arm as short ; Who fix ' d his iron talons on the
poor , And grip ' d them like some lordly beast of prey , Deaf to the forceful cries of
...
Page 5
... and laugh At the poor bug bear death ; then might the wretch That ' s weary of
the world , and tir ' d of life , At once give each inquietude the slip , By stealing out
of being when he pleas ' d , And by what way , whether by hemp or steel ; Death ...
... and laugh At the poor bug bear death ; then might the wretch That ' s weary of
the world , and tir ' d of life , At once give each inquietude the slip , By stealing out
of being when he pleas ' d , And by what way , whether by hemp or steel ; Death ...
Page 14
Aye ! now you have made the rich man poor indeed : Robb ' d of his gods , what
has he left behind ? O cursed lust of gold ! when for thy sake The fool throws up
his interest in both worlds , First starv ' d in this , then damn ' d in that to come ...
Aye ! now you have made the rich man poor indeed : Robb ' d of his gods , what
has he left behind ? O cursed lust of gold ! when for thy sake The fool throws up
his interest in both worlds , First starv ' d in this , then damn ' d in that to come ...
Page 17
... on the green laughs louder , Or clubs a smuttier tale ; when drunkards meet ,
None sings a merrier catch , or lends a hand More willing to his cup . Poor wretch
! he minds not , : That soon some trusty brother of the trade Shall do THE GRAVE
.
... on the green laughs louder , Or clubs a smuttier tale ; when drunkards meet ,
None sings a merrier catch , or lends a hand More willing to his cup . Poor wretch
! he minds not , : That soon some trusty brother of the trade Shall do THE GRAVE
.
Page 20
The supple statesman , and the patriot stern ; The wrecks of nations , and the
spoils of time , With all the lumber of six thousand years , Poor man ! how happy
once in thy first state ! When yet but warm from thy great Maker ' s hand , He
stamp ...
The supple statesman , and the patriot stern ; The wrecks of nations , and the
spoils of time , With all the lumber of six thousand years , Poor man ! how happy
once in thy first state ! When yet but warm from thy great Maker ' s hand , He
stamp ...
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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...
Bibliographic information
| Title | The grave, a poem. To which are added An elegy in a country church-yard, by Gray. Death, a poem, by bishop Porteus [&c.]. |
| Author | Robert Blair |
| Published | 1804 |
| Original from | Oxford University |
| Digitized | 21 Jun 2007 |
| Export Citation | BiBTeX EndNote RefMan |