English Synonymes: With Copious Illustrations and Explanations. Drawn from the Best Writers

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Harper & Brothers, 1851 - English language - 535 pages
 

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Page 116 - Man's feeble race what ills await ! . Labour, and Penury, the racks of Pain, Disease, and Sorrow's weeping train, And Death, sad refuge from the storms of fate ! The fond complaint, my song, disprove, And justify the laws of Jove.
Page 346 - Cowards die many times before their deaths; The valiant never taste of death but once. Of all the wonders that I yet have heard, It seems to me most strange that men should fear, Seeing that death, a necessary end, Will come when it will come.
Page 341 - And God created the great whales, and each Soul living, each that crept, which plenteously The waters generated by their kinds ; And every bird of wing after his kind ; And saw that it was good, and...
Page 127 - Ye noble few ! who here unbending stand Beneath life's pressure, yet bear up awhile, And what your bounded view, which only saw A little part, deem'd Evil, is no more ; The storms of Wintry Time will quickly pass, And one unbounded Spring encircle all.
Page 318 - WHEN all thy mercies, O my God, My rising soul surveys, Transported with the view I'm lost In wonder, love, and praise...
Page 349 - What is a man, If his chief good and market of his time Be but to sleep and feed? a beast, no more. Sure, he that made us with such large discourse, Looking before and after, gave us not That capability and god-like reason To fust in us unused.
Page 329 - A new and nobler way thou dost pursue, To make translations and translators too, They but preserve the ashes; thou the flame, True to his sense, but truer to his fame.
Page 179 - Nestling repair, and to the thicket some; Some to the rude protection of the thorn Commit their feeble offspring; the cleft tree Offers its kind concealment (to a few, Their food its insects, and its moss their nests. Others apart far in the grassy dale, Or roughening waste, their humble texture weave.
Page 102 - He with his thunder : and till then who knew The force of those dire arms ? yet not for those, Nor what the potent Victor in his rage Can else inflict, do I repent or change...
Page 91 - Who wickedly is wise, or madly brave, Is but the more a fool, the more a knave. Who noble ends by noble means obtains, Or failing, smiles in exile or in chains, Like good Aurelius let him reign, or bleed Like Socrates, that man is great indeed. What's fame? a fancied life in others' breath, A thing beyond us, ev'n before our death.

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