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absent friends angels art young ask'd beam beauty beauty's beneath blasts blest bliss bloom bosom breast breath bridal wreath bright brow calm chaplet charms cheek cheer cherub cloud cold dark death divine dream drest earth earthly eternal fade fair faith fame fear feel fled flowers fond Friendship gaze gloom glory glow golden sun grace grave grief happiness harp hath hearse heart heaven heavenly holy hope hour leaf life's light lips live lonely lov'd lute lyre mind morning mountain wave mourn ne'er night o'er pain pale peace pleasure pleasure's rest rise rose round sacred scene seem'd seraph shade shine shroud sigh silent skies sleep smile soft soon sooth sorrow soul stranger sweet tear tell tempests tender thee thine thou thought thro tomb turn'd Twas voice weep Whilst wing woes youth
Page 28 - Ah! little think the gay, licentious crowd, Whom pleasure, power, and affluence surround; They, who their thoughtless hours, in giddy mirth, And wanton, often cruel riot waste: Ah! little think they, while they dance along, How many pine in want, and dungeon glooms; •Shut from the common air, and common use Of their own limbs! how many drink the
Page 30 - Could we with ink the ocean fill, Was the whole earth of parchment made; Was every single stick a quill, Was every man a scribe by trade;; To write the love of God alone, Would drain the ocean dry, Nor would the scroll contain the whole, Though stretch'd from sky to sky.
Page 1 - Whoever thinks a faultless piece to see, Thinks what ne'er was, nor is, nor e'er shall be; In ev'ry work regard the writer's end, Since none can compass more than they intend.
Page 66 - Who would rob a hermit of his weeds, His few books, or his beads, or maple dish? Or do his gray hairs any violence? But Beauty, like the fair Hesperian tree Laden with blooming gold, had need the guard Of
Page 23 - love in solitude to shed, . The penitential tear, And all his promises to plead, Where none but God can hear. I love to think on mercies past, And future good implore, And all my cares and sorrows cast, On Him, whom I adore. I love, by faith, to take a view Of brighter scenes in heaven; The prospect oft my strength renews, While here by
Page 75 - Time is the season fair of living well, The path of glory, or the path of hell." I asked my Bible, and methinks it said, "Time is the present hour, the past is fled. Live: live to-day; to-morrow never yet On any human being rose or set.
Page 75 - Time is the warp of life," he said; oh tell The young, the gay, the fair, to weave it well! I asked, the ancient, venerable dead, Sages who wrote, and warriors who bled: From the cold grave a hollow murmur flowed, " Time sowed the seed we reap in this abode!" 1 asked a dying sinner, ere the tide Of
Page 28 - eat the bitter bread Of misery, sore pierced by wintry winds; How many shrink into the sordid hut Of cheerless poverty: How many, rack'd with honest passion, droop In deep retir'd distress! How many stand Around the