A Collection of Moral and Interesting Epitaphs, and Remarkable Monumental Inscriptions: With Miscellaneous Poems &c &c (Google eBook)

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William Henney
Gold, 1814 - Epitaphs - 120 pages
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Page 111 - that, at the best, I seldom am a welcome guest : But don't be captious, friend, at least: I little thought you'd still be able To stump about your farm and stable; Your years have run to a great length; I wish you joy, though, of your strength." " Hold," says the Farmer, " not so fast, I have been lame these four years past.
Page 111 - And no great wonder, Death replies; However, you still keep your eyes, And sure to see one's loves and friends, For legs and arms would make amends. Perhaps...
Page 32 - Her speech was the melodious voice of Love, Her song the warbling of the vernal grove ; Her eloquence was sweeter than her song, Soft as her heart, and as her reason strong; Her form each beauty of her mind express'd, Her mind was Virtue by the Graces dress'd.
Page 110 - To these conditions both consented, And parted perfectly contented. What next the hero of our tale befell, How long he lived, how...
Page 112 - I'm grown so deaf I could not hear." " Nay, then," the spectre stern rejoined, These are unjustifiable yearnings: If you are lame, and deaf, and blind, You've had your three sufficient warnings. So come along no more we'll part.
Page 110 - Neighbor, he said, farewell. No more Shall Death disturb your mirthful hour, And further, to avoid all blame Of cruelty upon my name, To give you time for preparation, And fit you for your future station, Three several warnings you shall have Before...
Page 100 - HERE lies poor Ned Purdon, from misery freed, Who long was a bookseller's hack ; He led such a damnable life in this world I don't think he'll wish to come back.
Page 11 - Even from the grave thou shalt have power to charm. Bid them be chaste, be innocent, like thee; Bid them in Duty's sphere as meekly move; And if so fair, from vanity as free; As firm in friendship, and as fond in love. Tell them, though...
Page 60 - Live while you live, the Epicure would say, And seize the pleasures of the present day. Live while you live, the sacred Preacher cries, And give to God each moment as it flies.
Page 25 - A poet, blest beyond the poet's fate, Whom Heaven kept sacred from the Proud and Great : Foe to loud praise, and friend to learned ease, Content with science in the vale of peace. Calmly he look'd on either life ; and here Saw nothing to regret, or there to fear ; From Nature's temperate feast rose satisfied, Thank'd Heaven that he had liv'd, and that he died.

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