The Shipwrecked mariner, Volym 31, Utgåva 121–124

Framsida
1884

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Sida 157 - Poor naked wretches, wheresoe'er you are, That bide the pelting of this pitiless storm, How shall your houseless heads and unfed sides, Your looped and windowed raggedness defend you From seasons such as these ? Oil have ta'en Too little care of this. Take physic Pomp ; Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel ; That thou
Sida 48 - three hundred year, To fall a log at last, dry, bald, and sere : A lily of a day is fairer far in May ; Although it fall and die that night, It was a plant and flower of light. In small proportions we just beauties see, And in short measures life may perfect be.
Sida 136 - The turf shall be my fragrant shrine ; My temple, Lord ! that Arch of Thine ; My censer's breath the mountain airs, And silent thoughts my only prayers ! My choir shall be the moonlit waves, When murm'ring homeward to their caves, •Or when the stillness of the sea, Ev'n more than music, breathes of Thee
Sida 210 - Break, break, break, At the foot of thy crags, O sea, But the tender grace of a day that is dead "Will never come back to me I
Sida 157 - Oil have ta'en Too little care of this. Take physic Pomp ; Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel ; That thou mayest shake the superflex to them, And show the heavens more just.
Sida 278 - His oft-repeated sermons still enforce the same doctrine, still press upon us the same exhortation : " Surely every man walketh in a vain show. Surely they are disquieted in vain. Here there is no continuing city.
Sida 280 - evil that we cannot either face or flee from, but the consciousness of duty disregarded. A sense of duty pursues us ever. It is omnipresent, like Deity. If we take to ourselves the wings of the morning, and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea, duty performed, or duty violated, is still with us, for our happiness or
Sida 273 - The turf shall be my fragrant shrine ; My temple, Lord ! that Arch of Thine ; My censer's breath the mountain airs, And silent thoughts my only prayers ! My choir shall be the moonlit waves, When
Sida 95 - The tidings spread, and gathering grows the crowd ; The hum of voices, and the laughter loud ; And woman's gentler, anxious tone is heard — Friends', husbands', lovers' names, in each dear word : Oh ! are they safe ? We ask not of success ; But shall we see them
Sida 242 - from our inability to make any effort to avoid the dreadful calamity that seemed to await us. . . . We were now within half a mile of the range of bergs. The roar of the surf, which extended each way as far as we could see, and the crashing of the ice, fell upon the

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