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Stran 400 - Canst thou not minister to a mind diseas'd ; Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow; Raze out the written troubles of the brain ; And with some sweet oblivious antidote Cleanse the stuffd bosom of that perilous stuff Which weighs upon the heart?
Stran 43 - The variety of pauses, so much boasted by the lovers of blank verse, changes the measures of an English poet to the periods of a declaimer; and there are only a few skilful and happy readers of Milton, who enable their audience to perceive where the lines end or begin. "Blank verse," said an ingenious critick, "seems to be verse only to the eye.
Stran 106 - It is indeed a thing so versatile and multiform, appearing in so many shapes, so many postures, so many garbs, so variously apprehended by several eyes and judgments, that it seemeth no less hard to settle a clear and certain notion thereof, than to make a portrait of Proteus, or to define the figure of the fleeting air.
Stran 417 - ... enforce and accept my imperfect repentance; make this commemoration available to the confirmation of my faith, the establishment of my hope, and the enlargement of my charity; and make the death of thy Son JESUS CHRIST effectual to my redemption. Have mercy upon me, and pardon the multitude of my offences. Bless my friends ; have mercy upon all men. Support me, by thy Holy Spirit, in the days of weakness, and at the hour of death ; and receive me, at my death, to everlasting happiness, for the...
Stran 44 - But, gracious God, how well dost thou provide For erring judgments an unerring guide! Thy throne is darkness in the abyss of light, A blaze of glory that forbids the sight. O teach me to believe thee thus conceal'd, And search no farther than thyself reveal'd; But her alone for my director take, Whom thou hast promised never to forsake!
Stran 303 - tis all a cheat : Yet, fooled with hope, men favour the deceit ; Trust on, and think to-morrow will repay : To-morrow's falser than the former day ; Lies worse, and, while it says, we shall be blest With some new joys, cuts off what we possest. Strange cozenage ! None would live past years again, Yet all hope pleasure in what yet remain ; And, from the dregs of life, think to receive, What the first sprightly running could not give. I'm tired with waiting for this chemic gold, Which fools us young,...
Stran 109 - Why," said Johnson, smiling and rolling himself about, " that is because, dearest, you're a dunce." When she some time afterwards mentioned this to him, he said, with equal truth and...
Stran 138 - Of every friendless name the friend. Yet still he fills affection's eye, Obscurely wise, and coarsely kind; Nor, letter'd arrogance, deny Thy praise to merit unrefin'd.
Stran 16 - In the romances formerly written, every transaction and sentiment was so remote from all that passes among men, that the reader was in very little danger of making any applications to himself; the virtues and crimes were equally beyond his sphere of activity; and he amused himself with heroes and with traitors, deliverers and persecutors, as with beings of another species...
Stran 409 - Debates were the only part of his writings which then gave him any compunction : but that at the time he wrote them, he had no conception he was imposing upon the world, though they were frequently written from very slender materials, and often, from none at all,— the mere coinage of his own imagination.