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2,201 illustrations — Poetic illustrations and verse for preaching
This modest stone, what few vain marbles can, May truly say, Here lies an honest man: A poet, blest beyond the poet's fate, Whom Heaven kept sacred from the proud and great: Foe to loud praise, and friend to learnèd...
POSTERITY will ne'er survey A nobler grave than this; Here lie the bones of Castlereagh: Stop traveller, * *
EARTH’D up, here lies an imp o’ hell, Planted by Satan’s dibble; Poor silly wretch, he’s damned himsel’, To save the Lord the trouble.
The inundation of the Spring Enlarges every soul -- It sweeps the tenement away But leaves the Water whole -- In which the soul at...
WHAT General has a good army in himself, has a good army; He happy in himself, or she happy in herself, is happy, But I tell you you cannot be happy by others, any more than you can beget or conceive a child by others.
The modest Rose puts forth a thorn, The humble sheep a threat'ning horn: While the Lily white shall in love delight, Nor a thorn nor a threat stain her beauty bright.
Yes, we have lived--one pang, and then we part! May Heaven, dear father! now have all thy heart. how once we loved, remember still, Till you are dust like me. Dear shade! I will: Then mix this dust with thine--O spotless ghost!
I WHO all the winter through Cherished other loves than you, And kept hands with hoary policy in marriage-bed and pew; Now I know the...
The little boy lost in the lonely fen, Led by the wandering light, Began to cry, but God, ever nigh, Appeared like his father, in white.
AWAY with funeral music - set The pipe to powerful lips - The cup of life's for him that drinks And not for him that...
The fairest Home I ever knew Was founded in an Hour By Parties also that I knew A spider and a Flower -- A manse...
My dearest Mary, wherefore hast thou gone, And left me in this dreary world alone?
The odour from the flower is gone Which like thy kisses breathed on me; The colour from the flower is flown Which glowed of thee and only thee!
And like a dying lady, lean and pale, Who totters forth, wrapped in a gauzy veil, Out of her chamber, led by the insane And feeble wanderings of her fading brain, The moon arose up in the murky East, A white and shapeless mass--
The Butterfly in honored Dust Assuredly will lie But none will pass the Catacomb So chastened as the Fly --
I was angry with my friend: I told my wrath, my wrath did end. I was angry with my foe: I told it not, my wrath did grow.
Midsummer, was it, when They died -- A full, and perfect time -- The Summer closed upon itself In Consummated Bloom -- The Corn, her...
The world is a bundle of hay, Mankind are the asses who pull; Each tugs it a different way,-- And the greatest of all is John Bull!
The Moralists tell us that Loving is Sinning, And always are prating about and about it, But as Love of Existence itself's the beginning, Say, what would Existence itself be without it?
There was a little lawny islet By anemone and violet, Like mosaic, paven: And its roof was flowers and leaves Which the summer's breath enweaves, Where nor sun nor showers nor breeze Pierce the pines and tallest trees, Each a...
Heaven is so far of the Mind That were the Mind dissolved -- The Site -- of it -- by Architect Could not again be...
Spring is the Period Express from God. Among the other seasons Himself abide, But during March and April None stir abroad Without a cordial interview...
Death is a Dialogue between The Spirit and the Dust. "Dissolve" says Death -- The Spirit "Sir I have another Trust" -- Death doubts it...
In moments to delight devoted, "My Life!" with tenderest tone, you cry; Dear words! on which my heart had doted, If Youth could neither fade nor die. To Death even hours like these must roll, Ah!
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