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Página 48 - Cowards die many times before their deaths ; The valiant never taste of death but once. Of all the wonders that I yet have heard, It seems to me most strange that men should fear; Seeing that death, a necessary end, Will come when it will come.
Página 190 - Teach me to feel another's woe, To hide the fault I see ; That mercy I to others show, That mercy show to me.
Página 190 - Let not this weak unknowing hand Presume Thy bolts to throw, And deal damnation round the land, On each I judge Thy foe. If I am right, Thy grace impart Still in the right to stay ; If I am wrong, oh, teach my heart To find that better way...
Página 189 - What conscience dictates to be done. Or warns me not to do, This teach me more than Hell to shun, That more than Heaven pursue.
Página 59 - I shall not determine ; but I think it is very wonderful to see persons of the best sense passing away a dozen hours together in shuffling and dividing a pack of cards, with no other conversation but what is made up of a few game phrases, and no other ideas but those of black or red spots ranged together in different figures.
Página 8 - With deafning clamours in the slippery clouds, That, with the hurly," death itself awakes ? Can'st thou, O partial sleep ! give thy repose To the wet sea-boy in an hour so rude ; And in the calmest and most stillest night, With all appliances and means to boot, Deny it to a king? Then, happy low, lie down ! Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.
Página 25 - ... than the care of the pilot, whom it was always in our power to choose among great numbers that offered their direction and assistance.
Página 8 - Wilt thou upon the high and giddy mast Seal up the ship-boy's eyes, and rock his brains In cradle of the rude imperious surge, And in the visitation of the winds, Who take the ruffian billows by the top, Curling their monstrous heads, and hanging them With deafening clamour in the slippery clouds, That, with the hurly, death itself awakes...
Página 45 - Say first, of God above, or man below, What can we reason, but from what we know ? Of man, what see we but his station here, From which to reason, or to which refer ? Thro' worlds unnumber'd tho' the God be known, "Tis ours to trace him only in our own.