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Pagina 550 - That time is past, And all its aching joys are now no more, And all its dizzy raptures. Not for this Faint I, nor mourn nor murmur; other gifts Have followed; for such loss, I would believe, Abundant recompense.
Pagina 511 - Those metaphors solace me not, nor sweeten the unpalatable draught of mortality. I care not to be carried with the tide, that smoothly bears human life to eternity ; and reluct at the inevitable course of destiny. I am in love with this green earth ; the face of town and country ; the unspeakable rural solitudes, and the sweet security of streets.
Pagina 393 - And next in order sad Old Age we found, His beard all hoar, his eyes hollow and blind, With drooping cheer still poring on the ground, As on the place where nature him...
Pagina 141 - Her breath is her own, which scents all the year long of June, like a new-made hay-cock. She makes her hand hard with labour, and her heart soft with pity...
Pagina 166 - tis too horrible ! The weariest and most loathed worldly life, ^ That age, ache, penury, and imprisonment Can lay on nature, is a paradise To what we fear of death.
Pagina 209 - Tell, you are my very old and intimate friend. Praise me for my good qualities, — you know them; but talk also how odd, how inconstant, how impetuous, how much accustomed to women of intrigue. Ask gravely, Pray don't you imagine there is something of madness in that family ? Talk of my various travels, — German princes, — Voltaire and Rousseau.
Pagina 165 - For a pagan there may be some motives to be in love with life ; but for a Christian to be amazed at death, I see not how he can escape this dilemma, that he is too sensible of this life, or hopeless of the life to come.
Pagina 165 - I thank God I have not those strait ligaments or narrow obligations to the world, as to dote on life, or be convulsed and tremble at the name of death.
Pagina 564 - I cannot doubt that they whom you deplore Are glorified; or, if they sleep, shall wake From sleep, and dwell with God in endless love. Hope, below this, consists not with belief In mercy, carried infinite degrees Beyond the tenderness of human hearts...