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Page 88 - O thou whose pow'er o'er moving worlds presides, Whose voice created, and whose wisdom guides, On darkling man in pure effulgence shine, And cheer the clouded mind with light divine. 'Tis thine alone to calm the pious breast With silent confidence and holy rest : From thee, great God, we spring, to thee we tend, Path- motive, guide, original, and end.
Page 175 - The bell strikes one. We take no note of time, But from its loss. To give it then a tongue Is wise in man. As if an angel spoke, I feel the solemn sound. If heard aright, It is the, knell of my departed hours : Where are they?
Page 175 - How poor, how rich, how abject, how august, How complicate, how wonderful, is man!
Page 44 - Oh sons of earth! attempt ye still to rise, By mountains piled on mountains, to the skies? Heaven still with laughter the vain toil surveys, And buries madmen in the heaps they raise.
Page 233 - Fortune hears th' incessant call, They mount, they shine, evaporate, and fall. On ev'ry stage the foes of peace attend, Hate dogs their flight, and insult mocks their end. Love ends with hope, the sinking statesman's door Pours in the morning...
Page 164 - O gentlemen, the time of life is short ; To spend that shortness basely, were too long, If life did ride upon a dial's point, Still ending at the arrival of an hour.
Page 147 - He sucks intelligence in every clime, And spreads the honey of his deep research At his return — a rich repast for me.
Page 187 - Which is, perhaps, as hard t' imagine right, As to paint Echo to the sight, I would not draw the idea from an empty name ; Because, alas ! when we all die, Careless and ignorant posterity, Although they praise the learning and the wit, And though the title seems to show The name and man by whom the book was writ, Yet how shall...