The Complaint: Or Night Thoughts, and the Force of Religion

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T. Bedlington, 1826 - 288 sider
 

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Side 33 - tis madness to defer: Next day the fatal precedent will plead ; Thus on, till wisdom is push'd out of life. Procrastination is the thief of time ; Year after year it steals, till all are fled, And to the mercies of a moment leaves The vast concerns of an eternal scene.
Side 28 - Insatiate archer ! could not one suffice ? Thy shaft flew thrice; and thrice my peace was slain; And thrice, ere thrice yon moon had fill'd her horn.
Side 34 - At thirty man suspects himself a fool: Knows it at forty, and reforms his plan; At fifty chides his infamous delay, Pushes his prudent purpose to resolve ; In all the magnanimity of thought Resolves; and re-resolves; then dies the same.
Side 34 - Tis not in Folly, not to scorn a fool; And scarce in human wisdom, to do more. All promise is poor dilatory man, And that through every stage : when young, indeed, In full content we sometimes nobly rest Unanxious for ourselves; and only wish, As duteous sons, our fathers were more wise. At thirty man suspects himself a fool; Knows it at forty, and reforms his plan...
Side 9 - And is it in the flight of threescore years To push eternity from human thought, And smother souls immortal in the dust? A soul immortal, spending all her fires, Wasting her strength in strenuous idleness, Thrown into tumult, raptur'd, or alarm'd At aught this scene can threaten or indulge...
Side 5 - Tis as the general pulse Of life stood still, and Nature made a pause ; An awful pause! prophetic of her end.
Side 40 - Time, in advance, behind him hides his wings, And seems to creep, decrepit with his age ; Behold him, when past by ; what then is seen, But his broad pinions swifter than the winds ? And all mankind, in contradiction strong, Rueful, aghast ! cry out on his career.
Side 69 - Death is the crown of life : Were death denied, poor man would live in vain : Were death denied, to live would not be life: Were death denied, e'en fools would wish to die. Death wounds to cure; we fall, we rise, we reign! Spring from our fetters, fasten in the skies, Where blooming Eden withers in our sight. Death gives us more than was in Eden lost! This king of terrors is the prince of peace.
Side 157 - Know'st thou the' importance of a soul immortal ? Behold this midnight glory : worlds on worlds ! Amazing pomp ; redouble this amaze ! Ten thousand add ; add twice ten thousand more ; Then weigh the whole ; one soul outweighs them all, And calls the' astonishing magnificence Of unintelligent creation poor.
Side 33 - Of man's miraculous mistakes this bears The palm, ' That all men are about to live, For ever on the brink of being born.' All pay themselves the compliment to think They one day shall not drivel : and their pride On this reversion takes up ready praise ; At least, their own ; their future selves applaud How excellent that life they ne'er will lead.

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