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Seite 59 - Our revels now are ended... These our actors, As I foretold you, were all spirits, and Are melted into air, into thin air, And, like the baseless fabric of this vision, The cloud-capped towers, the gorgeous palaces, The solemn temples, the great globe itself, Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve, And, like this insubstantial pageant faded, Leave not a rack behind: we are such stuff As dreams are made on; and our little life Is rounded with a sleep..
Seite 49 - Lives of great men all remind us We can make our lives sublime, And, departing, leave behind us Footprints on the sands of time ; Footprints, that perhaps another, Sailing o'er life's solemn main, A forlorn and shipwrecked brother, Seeing, shall take heart again.
Seite 210 - In that immense of being. There her hopes Rest at the fated goal. For from the birth Of mortal man, the sovereign Maker said, That not in humble nor in brief delight, Not in the fading echoes of Renown, Power's purple robes, nor Pleasure's flowery lap, The soul should find enjoyment: but from these Turning disdainful to an equal good, Through all the ascent of things enlarge her view, Till every bound at length should disappear, And infinite perfection close the scene.
Seite 258 - twixt south and south-west side; On either which he would dispute, Confute, change hands, and still confute. He'd undertake to prove, by force Of argument, a man's no horse; He'd prove a buzzard is no fowl, And that a lord may be an owl, A calf an alderman, a goose a justice, And rooks committee-men and trustees.
Seite 6 - O wad some Power the giftie gie us To see oursels as ithers see us! It wad frae monie a blunder free us, An' foolish notion: What airs in dress an' gait wad lea'e us, An
Seite 49 - THIS is the place. Stand still, my steed, Let me review the scene, And summon from the shadowy Past The forms that once have been.
Seite 7 - Is filled with inborn worth, unborrowed from his kind. The King of Heaven was in a manger laid, And took his earth but from an humble maid : Then what can birth, or mortal men, bestow, Since floods no higher than their fountains flow? We, who for name and empty honour strive, Our true nobility from him derive.
Seite 92 - Sure the last end Of the good man is peace! How calm his exit! Night-dews fall not more gently to the ground, Nor weary worn-out winds expire so soft.
Seite 112 - Heaven above, But pictured sees, in fancy strong, The landscape and the livelong day That smiled upon their mutual love? — Who that has felt forgets the song? Nor skill'd one flame alone to fan : His country's high-soul'd peasantry What patriot pride he taught!