A collection of epitaphs and monumental inscriptions, Band 1Lackington, Allen and Company, 1806 |
Im Buch
Ergebnisse 1-5 von 29
Seite 8
... dear sword beneath his head ; Round him his faithful arms shall stand ; Fix his bright ensigns on his bed , The guards and honours of our land . Ye sister arts of paint . and verse , Place Albion fainting by his side ! Her groans ...
... dear sword beneath his head ; Round him his faithful arms shall stand ; Fix his bright ensigns on his bed , The guards and honours of our land . Ye sister arts of paint . and verse , Place Albion fainting by his side ! Her groans ...
Seite 41
... dear son's grave doth lie , And , if it please the Lord , and so will I. These are not dead , that lie here in the deep , When the last trumpet sounds it shall wake them from sleep . And when I the last am carried forth of the door ...
... dear son's grave doth lie , And , if it please the Lord , and so will I. These are not dead , that lie here in the deep , When the last trumpet sounds it shall wake them from sleep . And when I the last am carried forth of the door ...
Seite 44
... Dear honour'd ' shade ! if angels ere bestow A thought on what is acted here below ; With pitying eye this weak attempt survey , The last sad tribute which thy friend can pay . Thou best of women ! once my greatest pride , Dearer to me ...
... Dear honour'd ' shade ! if angels ere bestow A thought on what is acted here below ; With pitying eye this weak attempt survey , The last sad tribute which thy friend can pay . Thou best of women ! once my greatest pride , Dearer to me ...
Seite 46
... dear reliques , feeds the hungry worm . Relentless Death ! ah , why destroy this flower ? Why rudely crop it , ere ' twas fairly blown ? Why snatch my life , my love , in one sad hour , Ere five and twenty years had scarcely flown ? Her ...
... dear reliques , feeds the hungry worm . Relentless Death ! ah , why destroy this flower ? Why rudely crop it , ere ' twas fairly blown ? Why snatch my life , my love , in one sad hour , Ere five and twenty years had scarcely flown ? Her ...
Seite 48
... dear a mother , and how sweet a wife , If he has bowels , cannot for his life But on these . ashes here some tears distill , For if men will not weep , this marble will . PRESCOT , LANCASHIRE . Matthew Fairhurst , of Bold , 48.
... dear a mother , and how sweet a wife , If he has bowels , cannot for his life But on these . ashes here some tears distill , For if men will not weep , this marble will . PRESCOT , LANCASHIRE . Matthew Fairhurst , of Bold , 48.
Inhalt
164 | |
176 | |
179 | |
183 | |
198 | |
200 | |
201 | |
205 | |
58 | |
69 | |
78 | |
79 | |
87 | |
91 | |
93 | |
105 | |
110 | |
113 | |
128 | |
139 | |
159 | |
163 | |
208 | |
211 | |
213 | |
217 | |
219 | |
221 | |
222 | |
224 | |
229 | |
231 | |
232 | |
235 | |
236 | |
Andere Ausgaben - Alle anzeigen
Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
Alessandro Albani BARROW UPON SOAR beauty Ben Jonson beneath blest bliss bloom born breath buried CANTERBURY CATHEDRAL CATHEDRAL charms Christopher Pitt church CHURCH-YARD dead dear death died doth dust dy'd e'er earth Edward Epictetus epitaph ev'ry eyes fair faith fame FARLAM fate genius grace grave grief hath heart heaven Henry honest honour husband inscription JOHN JOHN MILNE Jovianus Pontanus kill'd King LADY learned lies liv'd live London Lord lov'd lyes lyeth maid marble memory mind MONTGOMERYSHIRE monument mortal mourn Muse ne'er never night Norwich Nott o'er peace PETERBOROUGH CATHEDRAL pity poet poor praise pride Reader rest ROBERT DODSLEY sacred shew sigh sleeps sorrow soul stone sweet tear tender thee thine THOMAS THOMAS KNOLLES thou tomb truth twas virtue weep WESTMINSTER ABBEY wife WILLIAM wise worms wyff youth
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 2 - 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...
Seite 24 - He gained from heaven ('twas all he wished) a friend. No farther seek his merits to disclose, Or draw his frailties from their dread abode, (There they alike in trembling hope repose) The bosom of his father and his God.
Seite 113 - But lately finding him so long at home, And thinking now his journey's end was come, And that he had ta'en up his latest inn, In the kind office of a...
Seite 168 - In vain to me the smiling mornings shine, And reddening Phoebus lifts his golden fire: The birds in vain their amorous descant join, Or cheerful fields resume their green attire. These ears, alas! for other notes repine; A different object do these eyes require; My lonely anguish melts no heart but mine; And in my breast the imperfect joys expire...
Seite 22 - Here rests a woman, good without pretence, Blest with plain reason, and with sober sense ; No conquest she, but o'er herself desir'd ; No arts essay'd, but not to be admir'd.
Seite 25 - WOULD'ST thou hear what man can say In a little ? reader, stay. Underneath this stone doth lie As much beauty as could die : Which in life did harbour give To more virtue than doth live. If at all she had a fault. Leave it buried in this vault. One name was ELIZABETH, The other let it sleep with death : Fitter, where it died, to tell, Than that it lived at all. Farewell 1 SONG.
Seite 173 - 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 learned ease, Content with science in the vale of peace. Calmly he look'd on either life, and here Saw nothing to regret, or there to fear ; From Nature's...
Seite 26 - They seem'd just tallied for each other. Their moral and economy Most perfectly they made agree: Each virtue kept its proper bound, Nor trespass'd on the other's ground.
Seite 99 - Lord 1680, Was buried a true Englishman, Who in Berkshire was well known To love his country's freedom, 'bove his own, But living immured full twenty year, Had time to write, as does appear, HIS EPITAPH.
Seite 225 - EPITAPH ON CHARLES II. Here lies our Sovereign Lord the King, Whose word no man relies on, Who never said a foolish thing, Nor ever did a wise one.