The Dartmouth, Volumen11867 |
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Página 127 - Fair laughs the morn, and soft the zephyr blows While proudly riding o'er the azure realm In gallant trim the gilded vessel goes; Youth on the prow, and pleasure at the helm; Regardless of the sweeping whirlwind's sway, That, hush'd in grim repose, expects his evening prey.
Página 109 - My heart leaps up when I behold A rainbow in the sky: So was it when my life began ; So is it now I am a man ; So be it when I shall grow old, Or let me die! The child is father of the man; And I could wish my days to be Bound each to each by natural piety.
Página 228 - I said; Tie up the knocker, say I'm sick, I'm dead. The dog-star rages! nay 'tis past a doubt, All Bedlam, or Parnassus, is let out: Fire in each eye, and papers in each hand, They rave, recite, and madden round the land.
Página 15 - Your name from hence immortal life shall have, Though I, once gone, to all the world must die: The earth can yield me but a common grave, When you entombed in men's eyes shall lie. Your monument shall be my gentle verse, Which eyes not yet created shall o'er-read, And tongues to be your being shall rehearse When all the breathers of this world are dead; You still shall live — such virtue hath my pen — Where breath most breathes, even in the mouths of men.
Página 136 - O Woman ! in our hours of ease Uncertain, coy, and hard to please, And variable as the shade By the light quivering aspen made; When pain and anguish wring the brow, A ministering angel thou!
Página 237 - Received his laws, and stood convinc'd 'twas fit, Who conquer'd nature, should preside o'er wit. Horace still charms with graceful negligence, And without method talks us into sense : Will, like a friend, familiarly convey The truest notions in the easiest way.
Página 92 - ORDER is Heaven's first law; and this confessed, Some are, and must be, greater than the rest, 50 More rich, more wise; but who infers from hence That such are happier, shocks all common sense.
Página 136 - The very first Of human life must spring from woman's breast, Your first small words are taught you from her lips, Your first tears quench'd hy her, and your last sighs Too often breathed out in a woman's hearing, When men have shrunk from the ignoble care Of watching the last hour of him who led them.
Página 136 - From women's eyes this doctrine I derive: They sparkle still the right Promethean fire ; They are the books, the arts, the academes, That show, contain, and nourish all the world...
Página 128 - Art is long, and Time is fleeting, And our hearts, though stout and brave, Still, like muffled drums, are beating Funeral marches to the grave.