Of London

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Robt. Faulder, 1790 - London (England) - 439 pages
 

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Page 76 - When I look upon the tombs of the great, every emotion of envy dies in me ; when I read the epitaphs of the beautiful, every inordinate desire goes out; when I meet with the grief of parents upon a tombstone, my heart melts with compassion; when I see the tomb of the parents themselves, I consider the vanity of grieving for those whom we must quickly follow.
Page 69 - Fair laughs the Morn, and soft the zephyr blows, While proudly riding o'er the azure realm In gallant trim the gilded vessel goes: Youth on the prow, and Pleasure at the helm: Regardless of the sweeping whirlwind's sway, That hush'd in grim repose expects his evening prey.
Page 69 - Mighty victor, mighty lord ! Low on his funeral couch he lies ! No pitying heart, no eye, afford A tear to grace his obsequies.
Page 426 - Indies ours ; finds wealth where 'tis, bestows it where it wants, cities in deserts, woods in cities, plants : so that to us no thing, no place, is strange, while his fair bosom is the world's exchange.
Page 353 - Gentiles' great apostle's name, With grace divine great Anna's seen to rise, An awful form, that glads a nation's eyes. Beneath her feet four mighty realms appear, And with due reverence pay their homage there) Britain and Ireland seem to owe her grace, And e'en wild India wears a smiling face.
Page 426 - O could I flow like thee! and make thy stream My great example, as it is my theme ! Tho
Page 76 - When I see kings lying by those who deposed them, when I consider rival wits placed side by side, or the holy men that divided the world with their contests and disputes, I reflect with sorrow and astonishment on the little competitions, factions, and debates of mankind. When I read the several dates of the tombs, of some that died yesterday, and some six hundred years ago, I consider that great day when we shall all of us be contemporaries, and make our appearance together.
Page 209 - Marriages performed within,' written 'beneath. A dirty fellow invited you in. The parson was seen walking before his shop : a squalid profligate figure, clad in a tattered plaid night-gown, with a fiery face, and ready to couple you for a dram of gin, or roll of tobacco.
Page 49 - Even such is man, whose thread is spun, Drawn out, and cut, and so is done. The rose withers, the blossom blasteth, The flower fades, the morning hasteth, The sun sets, the shadow flies, The gourd consumes, and man — he dies!
Page 121 - T' entrench the city for defence in ? Rais'd rampiers with their own soft hands, To put the enemy to stands ; From ladies down to oyster-wenches Labour'd like pioneers in trenches, Fell to their pick-axes, and tools, And help'd the men to dig like moles?

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