The Task: In Six Books |
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Page 100
The taper soon extinguish'd , which I saw Dangled along at the cold finger's end
Just when the day declin'd : and the brown loaf Lodg'd on the shelf half eaten
without sauce Of sav'ry cheese , or butter , costlier still Sleep seems their only ...
The taper soon extinguish'd , which I saw Dangled along at the cold finger's end
Just when the day declin'd : and the brown loaf Lodg'd on the shelf half eaten
without sauce Of sav'ry cheese , or butter , costlier still Sleep seems their only ...
Page 105
Then sleep was undisturb'd by fear , unscar'd By drunken howlings ; and the
chilling tale of midnight murder was a wonder beard With doubtful credit , told to
frighten babes . But farewell now to unsuspicious nights , And slumbers unalarm'
d !
Then sleep was undisturb'd by fear , unscar'd By drunken howlings ; and the
chilling tale of midnight murder was a wonder beard With doubtful credit , told to
frighten babes . But farewell now to unsuspicious nights , And slumbers unalarm'
d !
Page 116
The cattle mourn in corners , where the fence Screens them , and seem half
petrified to sleep In unrecumbent sadness . There they wait Their wonted fodder ;
not like hung'ring man , Fretful if unsupplied but silent , meek , And patient of the ...
The cattle mourn in corners , where the fence Screens them , and seem half
petrified to sleep In unrecumbent sadness . There they wait Their wonted fodder ;
not like hung'ring man , Fretful if unsupplied but silent , meek , And patient of the ...
Page 121
But violence can never longer sleep Than human passions please . In every
heart Are sown the sparks that kindle fiery war ; Occasion needs but fan them ,
and they blaze . Cain had already shed a brother's blood : The déluge wash'd it
out ...
But violence can never longer sleep Than human passions please . In every
heart Are sown the sparks that kindle fiery war ; Occasion needs but fan them ,
and they blaze . Cain had already shed a brother's blood : The déluge wash'd it
out ...
Page 134
Nothing moves , Or nothing much , his constancy in ill ; Vain lamp'ring has but
foster'd his disease ; ' Tis desp'rate , and he sleeps the sleep of death . Haste ,
now , philosopher , and set him free . Charm the deaf serpent wisely . Make him
hear ...
Nothing moves , Or nothing much , his constancy in ill ; Vain lamp'ring has but
foster'd his disease ; ' Tis desp'rate , and he sleeps the sleep of death . Haste ,
now , philosopher , and set him free . Charm the deaf serpent wisely . Make him
hear ...
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Popular passages
Page 161 - One song employs all nations ; and all cry, " Worthy the Lamb, for he was slain for us ! " The dwellers in the vales and on the rocks Shout to each other, and the mountain tops From distant mountains catch the flying joy ; Till, nation after nation taught the strain, Earth rolls the rapturous Hosanna round.
Page 41 - Support and ornament of Virtue's cause. There stands the messenger of truth: there stands The legate of the skies! — His theme divine, His office sacred, his credentials clear. By him the violated law speaks out Its thunders ; and by him, in strains as sweet As angels use, the gospel whispers peace.
Page 155 - I would not enter on my list of friends (Though graced with polished manners and fine sense, Yet wanting sensibility) the man Who needlessly sets foot upon a worm.
Page 43 - A messenger of grace to guilty men. Behold the picture ! — Is it like ? — Like whom ? The things that mount the rostrum with a skip, And then skip down again ; pronounce a text ; Cry — hem ! and reading what they never wrote, Just fifteen minutes, huddle up their work, And with a well-bred whisper close the scene...
Page 32 - I would not have a slave to till my ground, To carry me, to fan me while I sleep, And tremble when I wake, for all the wealth That sinews bought and sold have ever earn'd.
Page 42 - Himself, as conscious of his awful charge, And anxious mainly that the flock he feeds May feel it too ; affectionate in look, And tender in address, as well becomes A messenger of grace to guilty men.
Page 161 - The garden fears no blight, and needs no fence, For there is none to covet; all are full. The lion, and the libbard, and the bear, Graze with the fearless flocks; all bask at noon Together, or all gambol in the shade Of the same grove, and drink one common stream ; Antipathies are none.
Page 32 - Slaves cannot breathe in England ; if their lungs Receive our air, that moment they are free ; They touch our country, and their shackles fall. That's noble, and bespeaks a nation proud And jealous of the blessing. Spread it then, And let it circulate through every vein Of all your empire ; that, where Britain's power Is felt, mankind may feel her mercy too.
Page 32 - We have no slaves at home — then why abroad ? And they themselves once ferried o'er the wave That parts us, are emancipate and loosed. Slaves cannot breathe in England ; if their lungs Receive our air, that moment they are free; They touch our country, and their shackles fall.
Page 31 - There is no flesh in man's obdurate heart, It does not feel for man ; the natural bond Of brotherhood is sever'd as the flax That falls asunder at the touch of fire.