The grave, a poem. To which are added An elegy in a country church-yard, by Gray. Death, a poem, by bishop Porteus [&c.].1804 |
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4 psl.
... once fam'd , now dubious or forgot ; And , buried ' midst the wreck of things that were , There lie interr'd the more illustrious dead . • The wind is up ; hark ! how it howls ! methinks , Till now , I never heard a sound so dreary ...
... once fam'd , now dubious or forgot ; And , buried ' midst the wreck of things that were , There lie interr'd the more illustrious dead . • The wind is up ; hark ! how it howls ! methinks , Till now , I never heard a sound so dreary ...
9 psl.
... once The labour of whole ages lumbers down , A hideous and mis - shapen length of ruins .. Sepulchral columns wrestle but in vain With all - subduing Time ; her can'kring hand With calm deliberate malice wasteth them : Worn on the edge ...
... once The labour of whole ages lumbers down , A hideous and mis - shapen length of ruins .. Sepulchral columns wrestle but in vain With all - subduing Time ; her can'kring hand With calm deliberate malice wasteth them : Worn on the edge ...
14 psl.
... close thro ' ev'ry lane of life , Nor misses once the track , but presses on ; Till , forc'd at last to the tremendous verge , At ace she sinks to everlasting ruin . Sure ' tis a serious thing to die ! my 14 THE GRAVE . )
... close thro ' ev'ry lane of life , Nor misses once the track , but presses on ; Till , forc'd at last to the tremendous verge , At ace she sinks to everlasting ruin . Sure ' tis a serious thing to die ! my 14 THE GRAVE . )
15 psl.
... once they ceas'd to be , Returning to the barren womb of nothing Whence first they sprang ; then might the debauchee Untrembling mouth the heavens : then might the drunkard Reel over his full bowl , and when ' t is drain'd ' Fill up ...
... once they ceas'd to be , Returning to the barren womb of nothing Whence first they sprang ; then might the debauchee Untrembling mouth the heavens : then might the drunkard Reel over his full bowl , and when ' t is drain'd ' Fill up ...
18 psl.
... once liv'd ;. And we that live must lend our carcases To cover our own offspring They too must cover theirs . in their turns ' Tis here all meet ! The shiv'ring Icelander , and sun - burnt Moor ; Men of all climes that never met before ...
... once liv'd ;. And we that live must lend our carcases To cover our own offspring They too must cover theirs . in their turns ' Tis here all meet ! The shiv'ring Icelander , and sun - burnt Moor ; Men of all climes that never met before ...
Kiti leidimai - Peržiūrėti viską
The Grave, a Poem. to Which Are Added an Elegy in a Country Church-Yard, by ... Robert Blair Peržiūra negalima - 2016 |
Pagrindiniai terminai ir frazės
Almighty arrow cross beneath Bishop Porteus bleeding blood bloom boast breath catholicons cheek cheer COUNTRY CHURCH-YARD cruel dæmon dark dead dead of night Death deep disarm'd dread drops dust E'en e'er earth endless pains ev'n ev'ry fair fame flatt'ring foul gen'ral gen'rous gentle gloomy groan hand hard hunted hast heart Heav'n honour'd horrors hour immortal song joys life's ling'ring liv'd live look loud mankind mansions Methinks mighty nature ne'er neighbours say night nought o'er Offer'd once pain paths of glory Peace pow'r promis'd proud Robert Blair round rouze rude ruin scarce scatter'd shew sight Smil'd smile sons soon soul sound spoils stamp'd strange stream sudden sweet swoln tale tell thee thick thine thing thou thro tomb twas tyrant vex'd warm weary WESTMINSTER ABBEY Whilst wreck wretch yonder younker youth
Populiarios ištraukos
29 psl. - 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...
32 psl. - 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.
31 psl. - 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.
29 psl. - 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?
50 psl. - Haply some hoary-headed swain may say, ' Oft have we seen him at the peep of dawn Brushing with hasty steps the dews away To meet the sun upon the upland lawn.
50 psl. - The place of fame and elegy supply : And many a holy text around she strews That teach the rustic moralist to die. For who, to dumb forgetfulness a prey, This pleasing anxious being e'er...
50 psl. - There at the foot of yonder nodding beech That wreathes its old fantastic roots so high, His listless length at noontide would he stretch, And pore upon the brook that babbles by.
31 psl. - Forbade to wade through slaughter to a throne, And shut the gates of mercy on mankind; The struggling pangs of conscious truth...
3 psl. - WHILST some affect the sun, and some the shade, Some flee the city, some the hermitage ; Their aims as various, as the roads they take In journeying through life ; — the task be mine To paint the gloomy horrors of the tomb ; Th' appointed place of rendezvous, where all These travellers meet.