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
With a resistless , unremitting stream , Yet treads more soft than c ' er did midnight
thief , That slides his hand under the miser ' s pillow , And carries off his prize .
What is this world ? What but a spacious burial field unwall ' d , Strew ' d with ...
With a resistless , unremitting stream , Yet treads more soft than c ' er did midnight
thief , That slides his hand under the miser ' s pillow , And carries off his prize .
What is this world ? What but a spacious burial field unwall ' d , Strew ' d with ...
Page 8
Here the warm lover , leaving the cool shade , The tell - tale echo and the
bubbling stream , Time out of mind the favourite seats of love , Fast by his gentle
mistress lays him down Unblasted by foul tongue . Here friends and foes Lie
close ...
Here the warm lover , leaving the cool shade , The tell - tale echo and the
bubbling stream , Time out of mind the favourite seats of love , Fast by his gentle
mistress lays him down Unblasted by foul tongue . Here friends and foes Lie
close ...
Page 19
Here the warm lover , leaving the cool shade , The tell - tale echo and the
bubbling stream , Time out of mind the favourite seats of love , : Fast by his gentle
mistress lays him down Unblasted by foul tongue . Here friends and foes Lie
close ...
Here the warm lover , leaving the cool shade , The tell - tale echo and the
bubbling stream , Time out of mind the favourite seats of love , : Fast by his gentle
mistress lays him down Unblasted by foul tongue . Here friends and foes Lie
close ...
Page 25
This moment resolute , next unresolv ' d , At last he dips his foot ; but , as he dips ,
His fears redouble , and he runs away From th ' inoffensive stream , unmindful
now Of all the flow ' rs that paint the further bank , And smil ' d so sweet of late .
This moment resolute , next unresolv ' d , At last he dips his foot ; but , as he dips ,
His fears redouble , and he runs away From th ' inoffensive stream , unmindful
now Of all the flow ' rs that paint the further bank , And smil ' d so sweet of late .
Page 37
... Lav ' d by oblivion ' s listless stream , and fenc ' d By shelving rocks , and
intermingled hosrors , , Of yew and cypress shade , from all intrusion Of busy
noontide beam , the Monarch sits In unsubstantial majesty enthron ' d . At his right
hand ...
... Lav ' d by oblivion ' s listless stream , and fenc ' d By shelving rocks , and
intermingled hosrors , , Of yew and cypress shade , from all intrusion Of busy
noontide beam , the Monarch sits In unsubstantial majesty enthron ' d . At his right
hand ...
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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...