The Poetical Works of Thomas Chatterton: With a Memoir, 第 10 卷

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Houghton, Mifflin, 1865
 

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第293页 - GOD, whose thunder shakes the sky, ' Whose eye this atom globe surveys ; To Thee, my only Rock, I fly, Thy mercy in Thy justice praise. The mystic mazes of Thy will, The shadows of celestial light, Are past the power of human skill ; But what the Eternal acts is right.
第309页 - Bristol an eternal fund of scandal, is here only introduced as a subject of taste ; if a man dresses well, he has taste ; if careless, he has his own reasons for so doing, and is prudent. Need I remind you of the contrast ? The poverty of authors is a common observation, but not always a true one. No author can be poor who understands the arts of booksellers. Without this necessary knowledge, the greatest genius may starve ; and with it, the greatest dunce live in splendour. This knowledge I have...
第1页 - Impelled by His eternal love, He left His palaces above To cheer our gloomy sky. How shall we celebrate the day, When God appeared in mortal clay, The mark of worldly scorn ; When the...
第cxvii页 - Through hot Arabia holds its rapid course ; On Tiber's banks where scarlet jasmines bloom, And purple aloes shed a rich perfume ; Where, when the sun is melting in his heat, The reeking tigers find a cool retreat ; Bask in the sedges, lose the sultry beam, And wanton with their shadows in the stream...
第281页 - Oh, how oft shall he On faith and changed gods complain, and seas Rough with black winds and storms Unwonted shall admire, Who now enjoys thee credulous...
第cxx页 - FAREWELL, Bristolia's dingy piles of brick, Lovers of mammon, worshippers of trick ! Ye spurned the boy who gave you antique lays, And paid for learning with your empty praise. Farewell, ye guzzling aldermanic fools, By nature fitted for corruption's tools ! I go to where celestial anthems swell ; But you, when you depart, will sink to hell.
第cxxxii页 - ALMIGHTY Framer of. the Skies ! O let our pure devotion rise, Like Incense in thy Sight ! Wrapt in impenetrable Shade The Texture of our Souls were made Till thy Command gave Light.
第312页 - Miss Rumsey, if she comes to London, would do well, as an old acquaintance, to send me her address. — London is not Bristol. — We may patrol the town for a day, without raising one whisper, or nod of scandal. — If she refuses, the curse of all antiquated virgins light on her ; may she be refused when she shall request ! Miss Rumsey will tell Miss Baker, and Miss Baker will tell Miss Porter, that Miss Porter's favoured humble servant, though but a young man, is a very old lover ; and in the...
第135页 - An almes, sir priest! the droppynge pilgrim sayde, For sweete Seyncte Marie and your order sake. The Limitoure then loosen'd his pouche threade, And did thereoute a groate of silver take ; The mister pilgrim dyd for halline shake.
第294页 - Why, drooping, seek the dark recess ? Shake off the melancholy chain, For God created all to bless. But ah ! my breast is human still ; The rising sigh, the falling tear, My languid vitals' feeble rill, The sickness of my soul declare.

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