Death: a poetical essay

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J. Bentham, 1759 - 20 páginas
 

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Página 12 - God abhorr'd ; with violence rude to break The thread of life ere half its length was run, And rob a wretched brother of his being. With joy Ambition saw, and soon improved The execrable deed. 'Twas not enough By subtle fraud to snatch a single life ; Puny impiety...
Página 18 - At thy good time Let Death approach ; I reck not — let him but come In genuine form, not with thy vengeance arm'd, Too much for man to bear.
Página 12 - Ah ! why will Kings forget that they are Men ? And Men that they are brethren ? Why delight In human sacrifice ? Why burst the ties Of Nature, that should knit their souls together In one soft bond of amity and love...
Página 11 - Along the gentle slope of life's decline He bent his gradual way, till full of years He dropt like mellow fruit into his grave.
Página 12 - Yet still they breathe destruction, still go on Inhumanly ingenious to find out New pains for life, new terrors for the grave. Artificers of Death ! Still monarchs dream Of universal empire growing up From universal ruin. Blast the design, Great God of Hosts, nor let thy creatures fall Unpitied victims at Ambition's shrine...
Página 15 - Through every region of delight, nor left One joy to gild the evening of thy days ; Though life seem one uncomfortable void, Guilt at thy heels, before thy face despair ; Yet gay this scene, and light this load of woe, Compar'd with thy hereafter.
Página 19 - Casts back a wishful look, and fondly clings To her frail prop, unwilling to be wrench'd From this fair...
Página 20 - 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, and animate her faith, Till my rapt soul, anticipating Heav'n, Bursts from the thraldom of incumb'ring clay, And on the wing of ecstasy upborne, Springs into Liberty, and Light, and Life.
Página 3 - Year be one or other of the Perfections or Attributes of the Supreme Being...
Página 19 - With tenfold usury the pious care, And pouring o'er my wounds the heav'nly balm Of conscious innocence.

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