The Works of the English Poets: With Prefaces, Biographical and Critical, Volumen 52

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Samuel Johnson
C. Bathurst, 1779
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Página 37 - O that I could but reach the Tree of Life ! For Here it grows, unguarded from our tafte ; 1075 No Flaming S'word denies our entrance Here; Would man but gather, he might live for ever. Lorenzo ! much of Moral haft thou feen. Of curious arts art thou more fond ? Then mark The Mathematic glories of the fkies,
Página 4 - From human mould we reap our daily bread. The globe around earth's hollow furface makes, 95 'And is the cieling of her fleeping fons. O'er devaftation we blind revels keep; , Whole bury'd towns fupport the dancer's heel. The moift of human frame the
Página 73 - awake ! Thou, who fhalt wake, when the creation fleeps ; When, like a taper, all thefe funs expire; "When Time, like him of Gaza in his wrath, Plucking the pillars that fupport the world, In Nature's ample ruins lies intomb'd ; - And Midnight, Univerfal Midnight! reigns. -END OF THE NIGHT-THOUGHTS.
Página 49 - and fets to view Worlds beyond number ; worlds conceal'd by day Behind the proud, and envious ftar of noon ! 1685 Canft thou not draw a deeper fcene ?—And fhew The Mighty Potentate, to whom belong Thefe rich regalia pompoufly difplay'd To kindle that high hope ? Like him of Uz, I gaze around; I fearch on
Página 10 - Intent on man, and anxious for his fate. Angels look out for thee; for thee, their Lord, To vindicate his glory; and for thee, Creation univerfal calls aloud, To dif-involve the moral world, and give 260 To nature's renovation brighter charms. Shall man alone, whofe fate,
Página 1 - NIGHT THE NINTH AND LAST. THE CONSOLATION. CONTAINING, AMONG OTHER THINGS, I. A MORAL Survey of the NOCTURNAL Heavens. II. A NIGHT-ADDRESS to the DEITY. HUMBLY INSCRIBED TO HIS GRACE THE DUKE OF NEWCASTLE, ONE OF HIS MAJESTY'S PRINCIPAL SECRETARIES OF STATE.
Página 8 - Terror and glory join'd in their extremes ! Our God in grandeur, and our world on fire ! All nature ftruggling in the pangs of death ! Doft thou not hear her ? Doft thou not deplore Her ftrong convulfions, and her final groan
Página 51 - Who built thus high for worms (mere worms to Him) O where, Lorenzo ! muft the Builder dwell ? Paufe, then ; and, for a moment, here refpire— If human thought can keep its ftation here. Where am I ?—Where is earth ?—Nay, where art Thou O fun ?—Is the fun turn'd reclufe ?—And are His boafted expeditions
Página 43 - To dijbelieve, through mere credulity!" If, in this chain, Lorenzo finds no flaw, Let it for ever bind him to belief, And where the link, in which a flaw he finds ? And, if a God there is, that God how great
Página 89 - To touch our paflions' fecret fprings Was his peculiar care ; And deep his happy genius div'd In bofoms of the fair; Nature, which favours to the few, All art beyond, imparts, To him prefented at his birth, The key of human hearts. But not to me by him bequeath'd His gentle,

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