An essay on immorality [in verse].

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Page 12 - Be strong, live happy, and love ! But, first of all, Him, whom to love is to obey, and keep His great command...
Page 31 - Is nature backward to torment, or kill ? How oft the noon, how oft the midnight, bell, (That iron tongue of death !) with solemn knell, On folly's errands as we vainly roam, Knocks at our hearts, and finds our thoughts from home ! Men drop so fast, ere life's mid stage we tread, Few know so many friends alive, as dead.
Page 14 - Cruel by nature, they for kindness hate: And scorn you for those ills themselves create. If on your fame our sex a blot has thrown, 'Twill ever stick, through malice of your own. Most hard! in pleasing your chief glory lies; And yet from pleasing your chief dangers rise : Then please the best; and know, for men of sense. Your strongest charms are native innocence. Arts on the mind, like paint upon the face, Fright him...
Page 14 - And man, whom leaft me fears, her worft of foes ! When kind, moft cruel ; when oblig'd the moft, The leaft obliging ; and by favours, loft. Cruel by nature, they for kindnefs hate, And fcorn you for thofe ills themfehes create. If on your fame our fex a blot has thrown, 'Twill ever ftick, thro
Page 27 - Raves round the walls of her clay tenement ; Runs to each avenue, and shrieks for help ; But shrieks in vain ! How wishfully she looks On all she's leaving, now no longer...
Page 14 - Ye beauteous orphans, since in silent dust Your best example lies, my precepts trust. Life swarms with ills ; the boldest are afraid ; Where then is safety for a tender maid ? Unfit for conflict, round beset with woes, And man, whom least she fears, her worst of foes ! When kind, most cruel ; when oblig'd the most, The least obliging; and by favours lost. Cruel by nature, they for kindness hate ; And scorn you for those ills themselves create.
Page 35 - Men drop fo faft, ere life's mid ftage we tread, Few know fo many friends alive, as dead, Yet, as immortal, in our up-hill chace We prefs coy Fortune with...
Page 4 - When infant Reason grows apace, and calls For the kind Hand of an assiduous Care; 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 th' enliv'ning Spirit, and to fix The generous Purpose in the glowing Breast.
Page 20 - How flow'd our mirth, and whence the fource begun? Perhaps the jeft that charm'd the fprightly crowd, And made the jovial table laugh fo loud, To fome falfe notion ow'd its poor pretence, To an ambiguous word's perverted...
Page 4 - To breathe th' enlivening fpirit, and to fix The generous purpofe in the glowing breaft. Oh fpeak the joy! ye, "whom the fudden tear...

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