The Gentleman's Magazine, and Historical Chronicle, for the Year ..., Volume 93, Part 2

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Edw. Cave, 1736-[1868], 1823 - English essays
 

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Page 207 - LIKE as the damask rose you see, Or like the blossom on the tree, Or like the dainty flower of May, Or like the morning of the day, Or like the sun, or like the shade, Or like the gourd which Jonas had; Even such is man, whose thread is spun, Drawn out, and cut, and so is done.
Page 455 - NIGHT is the time for rest ; How sweet when labours close, To gather round an aching breast The curtain of repose ; Stretch the tired limbs and lay the head Upon our own delightful bed ! Night is the time for dreams, The gay romance of life ; When truth that is, and truth that seems, Blend in fantastic strife...
Page 118 - And he set the cherubims within the inner house: and they stretched forth the wings of the cherubims, so that the wing of the one touched the one wall, and the wing of the other cherub touched the other wall; and their wings touched one another in the midst of the house.
Page 455 - Night is the time for toil; To plough the classic field, Intent to find the buried spoil Its wealthy furrows yield ; Till all is ours that sages taught, That poets sang or heroes wrought.
Page 564 - And whereas to pursue schemes of conquest and extension of dominion in India are measures repugnant to the wish, the honour, and policy of this nation...
Page 455 - And hold communion there with God. Night is the time for death ; When all around is peace, Calmly to yield the weary breath, From sin and suffering cease : Think of heaven's bliss, and give the sign To parting friends — such death be mine ! THE GRAVE.
Page 340 - All that pass by clap their hands at thee; they hiss and wag their head at the daughter of Jerusalem, saying, Is this the city that men call The perfection of beauty, The joy of the whole earth?
Page 217 - O my beloved nymph, fair Dove, Princess of rivers, how I love Upon thy flowery banks to lie, And view thy silver stream, When gilded by a Summer's beam! And in it all thy wanton fry Playing at liberty, And, with my angle, upon them The all of treachery I ever learned industriously to try!
Page 29 - This sword a dagger had, his page, That was but little for his age...
Page 113 - Till I went after him I was little better than the devil ; my conscience was tanned with sin like a piece of neat's leather, and had no more feeling than the sole of my shoe; always a roving after fantastical delights ; I used to go every Sunday evening to the Three Hats at Islington ; it's a public-house ; mayhap your ladyship may know it.

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