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 7
Digs thro ' whole rows of kindred , and acquaintance By far his juniors ? scarce a
scull ' s cast up , But well he knew its owner , and can tell Some passage of his
life . Thus hand in hand The sot has walk ' d with death twice twenty years ; And ...
Digs thro ' whole rows of kindred , and acquaintance By far his juniors ? scarce a
scull ' s cast up , But well he knew its owner , and can tell Some passage of his
life . Thus hand in hand The sot has walk ' d with death twice twenty years ; And ...
Page 8
Scarce importun ' d , The gen ' rous soil with a luxuriant hand Offer ' d the various
produce of the year And ev ' ry thing most perfect in its kind . Blessed , thrice
blessed day ! but ah , how short ! Bless ' d as the pleasing dreams of holy men ,
But ...
Scarce importun ' d , The gen ' rous soil with a luxuriant hand Offer ' d the various
produce of the year And ev ' ry thing most perfect in its kind . Blessed , thrice
blessed day ! but ah , how short ! Bless ' d as the pleasing dreams of holy men ,
But ...
Page 17
Of hard unmeaning face , down which ne ' er stole A gentle tear ; with mattock in
his hand Digs thro ' whole rows of kindred and acquaintance By far his juniors ?
scarce a scull ' s cast up , But well he knew its owner , and can tell Some ...
Of hard unmeaning face , down which ne ' er stole A gentle tear ; with mattock in
his hand Digs thro ' whole rows of kindred and acquaintance By far his juniors ?
scarce a scull ' s cast up , But well he knew its owner , and can tell Some ...
Page 20
Scarce importun ' d , The gen ' rous soil with a luxuriant hand . Offer ' d the
various produce of the year And ev ' ry thing most perfect in its kind . Blessed ,
thrice blessed day ! but ah , how short ! Bless ' d as the pleasing dreams of holy
men ...
Scarce importun ' d , The gen ' rous soil with a luxuriant hand . Offer ' d the
various produce of the year And ev ' ry thing most perfect in its kind . Blessed ,
thrice blessed day ! but ah , how short ! Bless ' d as the pleasing dreams of holy
men ...
Page 21
Thus far ' d it with our sire : not long he enjoy ' d His paradise ! scarce had the
happy tenant Of the fair spor , due time to prove its sweets , Or sum them up ,
when strait he must be gone , Ne ' er to return again . And must he go ? Can
nought ...
Thus far ' d it with our sire : not long he enjoy ' d His paradise ! scarce had the
happy tenant Of the fair spor , due time to prove its sweets , Or sum them up ,
when strait he must be gone , Ne ' er to return again . And must he go ? Can
nought ...
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...
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 |