The Angling Excursions of Gregory Greendrake, Esq. [pseud., I.e. J. Coad] in the Counties of Wicklow, Meath, Westmeath, Longford, and Cayan, with Additions, by Geoffrey Greydrake, Esq. [pseud., I.e. Thomas Ellingsale] Dedicated to "all Honest Brothers of the Angle".
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Page 52 - To each his sufferings : all are men, Condemn'd alike to groan ; The tender for another's pain, The unfeeling for his own. Yet, ah ! why should they know their fate, Since sorrow never comes too late, And happiness too swiftly flies? Thought would destroy their paradise. No more ; — where ignorance is bliss, 'Tis folly to be wise.
Page 243 - They, looking back, all the eastern side beheld Of Paradise, so late their happy seat, Waved over by that flaming brand; the gate With dreadful faces thronged and fiery arms. Some natural tears they dropped, but wiped them soon; The world was all before them, where to choose Their place of rest, and Providence their guide.
Page 163 - Alas ! regardless of their doom The little victims play ! No sense have they of ills to come Nor care beyond to-day...
Page 229 - Poor naked wretches, wheresoe'er you are, That bide the pelting of this pitiless storm, How shall your houseless heads and unfed sides, Your loop'd and window'd raggedness, defend you From seasons such as these ? O, I have ta'en Too little care of this ! Take physic, pomp ; Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel, That thou mayst shake the superflux to them, And show the heavens more just.
Page 93 - Sweet vale of Avoca ! how calm could I rest In thy bosom of shade, with the friends I love best, Where the storms that we feel in this cold world should cease, And our hearts, like thy waters, be mingled in peace.
Page 86 - My next desire is, void of care and strife, To lead a soft, secure, inglorious life — A country cottage near a crystal flood, A winding valley, and a lofty wood.
Page 213 - Full fathom five thy father lies, Of his bones are coral made : Those are pearls that were his eyes, Nothing of him that doth fade, But doth suffer a sea change, Into something rich and strange.
Page 93 - THERE is not in the wide world a valley so sweet, As that vale in whose bosom the bright waters meet ; Oh ! the last rays of feeling and life must depart, Ere the bloom of that valley shall fade from my heart.