Flowers of Literature: For 1804: Or, Characteristic Sketches of Human Nature and Modern Manners. To which are Added, a General View of Literature During that Period; Portraits and Biographical Notices of Eminent Literary Characters, with Notes, Historical, Critical, and Explanatory

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J. Swan, 1805 - English literature - 518 pages


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Page 22 - These are thy glorious works, Parent of good, Almighty, thine this universal frame, Thus wondrous fair; thyself how wondrous then ! Unspeakable, who sitt'st above these heavens, To us invisible, or dimly seen In these thy lowest works; yet these declare Thy goodness beyond thought, and power divine.
Page 72 - While from the bounded level of our mind, Short views we take, nor see the lengths behind; But more advanc'd, behold with strange surprise, New distant scenes of endless science rise!
Page 357 - I had roam'd on a desolate track: 'twas Autumn, — and sunshine arose on the way to the home of my fathers, that welcomed me back. I flew to the pleasant fields traversed...
Page 220 - THE tree of deepest root is found Least willing still to quit the ground; 'Twas therefore said by ancient sages, That love of life increased with years So much, that in our latter stages, When pains grow sharp, and sickness rages, The greatest love of life appears.
Page 223 - I know, cries Death, that at the best, I seldom am a welcome guest; But don't be captious, friend, at least; I little thought you'd still be able To stump about your farm and stable; Your years have run to a great length, I wish you joy though of your strength. Hold, says the farmer, not so fast, I have been lame these four years past. And no great wonder...
Page 223 - And no great wonder," Death replies; " However, you still keep your eyes; And, sure, to see one's loves and friends, For legs and arms would make amends." " Perhaps," says Dobson, " so it might, But latterly I've lost my sight.
Page 203 - Pond'ring how best his moments to employ, He sings his little songs of nameless joy, Creeps on the warm green turf for many an hour, And plucks by chance the white and yellow flower ; Smoothing their stems, while resting on his knees, He binds a nosegay which he never sees ; Along the homeward path then feels his way, Lifting his brow against the shining day, And, with a playful rapture round his eyes, Presents a sighing parent with the prize.
Page 397 - See a long race thy spacious courts adorn; See future sons and daughters yet unborn, In crowding ranks on every side arise. Demanding life, impatient for the skies! See barbarous nations at thy gates attend, Walk in thy light, and in thy temple bend; See thy bright altars throng'd with prostrate kings, And heap'd with products of Sabean springs!
Page 222 - So soon, d'ye call it !' Death replies. ' Surely, my friend, you're but in jest ; Since I was here before 'Tis six-and-thirty years at least, And you are now fourscore.
Page 358 - I flew to the pleasant fields traversed so oft In life's morning march, when my bosom was young ; I heard my own mountain-goats bleating aloft, And knew the sweet strain that the corn-reapers sung.

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