Edinburgh fugitive pieces [by W. Creech].

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George Ramsay for John Fairbairn, 1815 - 80 pàgines
 

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Pàgina 138 - And that which should accompany old age, As honour, love, obedience, troops of friends, I must not look to have ; but, in their stead, Curses, not loud but deep, mouth-honour, breath, Which the poor heart would fain deny, and dare not.
Pàgina 149 - Awake, my St. John! leave all meaner things To low ambition, and the pride of kings. Let us (since life can little more supply Than just to look about us and to die) Expatiate free o'er all this scene of man; A mighty maze! but not without a plan; A wild, where weeds and flowers promiscuous shoot; Or garden tempting with forbidden fruit.
Pàgina 229 - Should fate command me to the farthest verge Of the green earth, to distant, barbarous climes, Rivers unknown to song, — where first the sun Gilds Indian mountains, or his setting beam Flames on the...
Pàgina 97 - Viselli : 105 est modus in rebus, sunt certi denique fines, quos ultra citraque nequit consistere rectum.
Pàgina 253 - Delightful task! to rear the tender thought, To teach the young idea how to shoot, To pour the fresh instruction o'er the mind, To breathe the' enlivening spirit, and to fix The generous purpose in the glowing breast.
Pàgina 230 - tis nought to me; Since God is ever present, ever felt, In the void waste as in the city full; And where he vital breathes, there must be joy.
Pàgina 175 - Vice is a monster of so frightful mien, As, to be hated, needs but to be seen; Yet seen too oft, familiar with her face, We first endure, then pity, then embrace.
Pàgina 170 - Free and unquestion'd through the wilds of love; While woman, sense and nature's easy fool, If poor, weak woman swerve from virtue's rule, If, strongly charm 'd, she leave the thorny way, And in the softer paths of pleasure stray; Ruin ensues, reproach and endless shame, And one false step entirely damns her fame. In vain with tears the loss she may deplore, 1 In vain look back to what she was before; > She sets, like stars that fall, to rise no more...
Pàgina 200 - Ask where's the North? at York, 'tis on the Tweed; In Scotland, at the Orcades; and there, At Greenland, Zembla, or the Lord knows where.
Pàgina 332 - ... accent of Christians nor the gait of Christian, pagan, nor man, have so strutted and bellowed that I have thought some of Nature's journeymen had made men and not made them well, 40 they imitated humanity so abominably.

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