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affections afflicted appear beauty become better broken Byron cause character close comes common Crabbe criticism dark death desire dream earth elements Elliott eloquence England English evil existence experience expression faith Falstaff fancy father fear feel fire flowers followed forms gain genius give given glory Goldsmith grave hand hard hear heart heaven hope hour human humble humor imagination interest Ireland knew labor land leave light living look Lord means mind moral nature never object once passed passions person pleasure poet poetry poor position present prince seems sense sentiment sorrow soul speak spirit story strength strong suffering sympathy tears thee things thou thought tion toil true truth turn vanity virtue whole wisdom writings wrong youth
Page 244 - Yet he was kind, or, if severe in aught, The love he bore to learning was in fault. The village all declared how much he knew : 'Twas certain he could write, and cipher too ; Lands he could measure, terms and tides presage, And e'en the story ran — that he could gauge. In arguing, too, the parson owned his skill, For e'en though vanquished, he could argue still ; While words of learned length and thundering sound Amazed the gazing rustics ranged around.
Page 11 - Give you a reason on compulsion ! if reasons were as plenty as blackberries, I would give no man a reason upon compulsion, I. P.
Page 28 - twas time to counterfeit, or that hot termagant Scot had paid me scot and lot too. Counterfeit ? I lie, I am no counterfeit: to die, is to be a counterfeit; for he is but the counterfeit of a man who hath not the life of a man: but to counterfeit dying, when a man thereby liveth, is to be no counterfeit, but the true and perfecT: image of life indeed. The better part of valour is discretion; in the which better part I have saved my life.
Page 243 - The reverend champion stood. At his control Despair and anguish fled the struggling soul ; Comfort came down the trembling wretch to raise, And his last faltering accents whispered praise.
Page 242 - Dear lovely bowers of innocence and ease, Seats of my youth, when every sport could please, How often have I loitered o'er thy green, Where humble happiness endeared each scene!
Page 143 - We wither from our youth, we gasp away — Sick — sick; unfound the boon — unslaked the thirst, Though to the last, in verge of our decay, Some phantom lures, such as we sought at first — But all too late, — so are we doubly curst. Love, fame, ambition, avarice — 'tis the same, Each idle — and all ill — and none the worst — For all are meteors with a different name, And Death the sable smoke where vanishes the flame.
Page 231 - I have been a good deal abused in the news-papers for betraying the liberties of the people. God knows I had no thought for or against liberty in my head ; my whole aim being to make up a book of a decent size, that, as "Squire Richard says, would do no harm to nobody.
Page 231 - I could say nothing but that I had a brother there, a clergyman, that stood in need of help: as for myself, I have no dependence on the promises of great men: I look to the booksellers for support; they are my best friends, and I am not inclined to forsake them for others.
Page 29 - Wednesday. Doth he feel it? no. Doth he hear it? no. 'Tis insensible, then? Yea, to the dead. But will it not live with the living? no. Why? detraction will not suffer it. Therefore I'll none of • it. Honour is a mere scutcheon : and so ends my catechism.