Sacred Dramas: The Search After Happiness : and Other Poems

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J. F. Dove, 1827 - 268 pages
 

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Page 53 - Was lodg'd in the king's palace, and instructed In all the various learning of the East ; But HE, on whose great name our fathers call'd...
Page 214 - Thammuz came next behind, Whose annual wound in Lebanon allured The Syrian damsels to lament his fate In amorous ditties all a summer's day ; While smooth Adonis from his native rock Ran purple to the sea, supposed with blood Of Thammuz yearly wounded...
Page 39 - Now will I meet thee, Thou insect warrior, since thou dar'st me thus ! Already I behold thy mangled limbs, Dissever'd each from each, ere long to feed The fierce blood-snuffing vulture. Mark me well. Around my spear I'll twist thy shining locks...
Page 191 - The burning village and the blazing town : See the dire victim torn from social life, The shrieking babe, the agonizing wife ! She, wretch forlorn ! is dragg'd by hostile hands, To distant tyrants sold, in distant lands ! Transmitted miseries, and successive chains, The sole sad heritage her child obtains ! E'en this last wretched boon their foes deny, To weep together, or together die.
Page 113 - A drop, dissever'd from the boundless sea ; A moment, parted from eternity ; A pilgrim panting for the rest to come ; An exile, anxious for his native home.
Page 158 - What charms from polish'd converse flow, Speak, for you can, the pure delight When kindling sympathies unite ; When correspondent tastes impart Communion sweet from heart to heart ; You ne'er the cold gradations need Which vulgar souls to union lead ; No dry discussion to unfold The meaning caught ere well 'tis told : In taste, in learning, wit, or science, Still kindred souls demand alliance ; Each in the other joys to find The image answering to his mind.
Page 191 - Whene'er to Afric's shores I turn my eyes, Horrors of deepest, deadliest guilt arise ; I see, by more than Fancy's mirror shown. The burning village and the blazing town : See the dire victim torn from social life, The shrieking babe, the agonizing wife ! She, wretch forlorn ! is dragg'd by hostile hands, To distant tyrants sold, in distant...
Page 195 - Your sum of glory boasts a like amount : The means may differ, but the end's the same ; Conquest is pillage with a nobler name. Who makes the sum of human blessings less, Or sinks the stock of general happiness, Though erring fame may grace, though false renown His life may blazon or his memory crown, Yet the last audit shall reverse the cause, And God shall vindicate his broken laws.
Page 164 - But FLORIO knew the WORLD ; that science Sets sense and learning at defiance ; He thought the World to him was known, Whereas he only knew the Town ,In men this blunder still you find, All think their little set — Mankind.
Page 190 - No : they have heads to think, and hearts to feel, And souls to act with firm though erring zeal ; For they have keen affections, kind desires...

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