Essays and thoughts on various subjects, and from various authors, &c: Together with nine papers from the Olla podrida; and poems (Google eBook)

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Printed for F.C. and J. Rivington, 1808 - Literary Collections - 295 pages
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Page 70 - Remember thee! Yea, from the table of my memory I'll wipe away all trivial fond records, All saws of books, all forms, all pressures past, That youth and observation copied there; And thy commandment all alone shall live Within the book and volume of my brain, Unmix'd with baser matter: yes, by heaven!
Page 257 - When I look upon the tombs of the great, every emotion of envy dies in me ; when I read the epitaphs of the beautiful, every inordinate desire goes out; when I meet with the grief of parents upon a tomb-stone, my heart melts with compassion ; when I see the tomb of the parents themselves, I consider the vanity of grieving for those whom we must quickly follow...
Page 45 - But rise; let us no more contend, nor blame Each other, blamed enough elsewhere; but strive, In offices of love, how we may lighten Each other's burden, in our share of woe...
Page 257 - When I read the several dates of the tombs, of" some that died yesterday, and some six hundred years ago, I consider that great day when we shall all of us be contemporaries, and make our appearance together.
Page 168 - It is an uncontrolled truth," says Swift, "that no man ever made an ill figure who understood his own talents, nor a good one who mistook them.
Page 257 - When I see kings lying by those who deposed them, when I consider rival wits placed side by side, or the holy men that divided the world with their contests and disputes, I reflect with sorrow and astonishment on the little competitions, factions, and debates of mankind.
Page 259 - A Proclamation for the encouragement of piety and virtue, and for preventing and punishing of vice, profaneness, and immorality.
Page 279 - SWEET Day, so cool, so calm, so bright, The bridal of the earth and sky, The dew shall weep thy fall to-night ; For thou must die. Sweet Rose, whose hue angry and brave Bids the rash gazer wipe his eye, Thy root is ever in its grave, And thou must die. Sweet Spring, full of sweet days and roses, A box where sweets compacted lie, My Music shows ye have your closes, And all must die. Only a sweet and virtuous soul, Like...
Page 230 - He felt his own powers; he felt what he was capable of having performed ; and he saw how little, comparatively speaking, he had performed. Hence his apprehensions on the near prospect of the account to be made, viewed through the medium of constitutional and morbid melancholy, which often excluded from his sight the bright beams of divine mercy. May those beams ever shine upon us ! But let them not cause us to forget, that talents have been bestowed, of which an account must be rendered; and that...
Page 46 - Clergymen, who understand the least, and take the worst measure of human affairs, of all mankind that can write and read!

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