The Grave: A Poem

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Methuen, 1903 - Death - 44 pages
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This book contains Robert Blair's poem "The Grave" accompanied by illustrations by William Blake.

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Page 4 - Till, out of breath, he overtakes his fellows, Who gather round and wonder at the tale Of horrid apparition tall and ghastly, That walks at dead of night, or takes his stand O'er some new-open'd grave; and (strange to tell!) Evanishes at crowing of the cock.
Page 26 - Massacre, and Poison, Famine, and War, were not thy caterers !) But know that thou must render up thy dead, And with high interest too ! they are not thine ; But only in thy keeping for a season, Till the great promis'd day...
Page 28 - 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.
Page 16 - What a strange moment must it be, when near Thy journey's end thou hast the gulf in view ! That awful gulf no mortal e'er repass'd To tell what's doing on the other side. Nature runs back, and shudders at the sight, And every life-string bleeds at thoughts of parting; For part they must: body and soul must part; Fond couple! link'd more close than wedded pair. This wings its way to its Almighty Source, The witness of its actions, now its judge: That drops into the dark and noisome grave, Like a disabled...
Page 17 - And wait th' appointed hour, till they're relieved. Those only are the brave that keep their ground, And keep it to the last. To run away Is but a coward's trick: to run away From this world's ills, that at the very worst Will soon blow o'er, thinking to mend ourselves By boldly venturing on a world unknown, And plunging headlong in the dark; 'tis mad: No frenzy half so desperate as this.
Page 11 - Unconscious of his strength, to play the coward, And flee before a feeble thing like man ; That, knowing well the slackness of his arm, Trusts only in the well-invented knife...
Page 17 - But what means This stinted charity ? 'Tis but lame kindness That does its work by halves. Why might you not Tell us what 'tis to die ? Do the strict laws Of your society forbid your speaking Upon a point so nice ? I'll...
Page 8 - Who ravag'd kingdoms, and laid empires waste, And in a cruel wantonness of power, Thinn'd states of half their people, and gave up To want the rest; now, like a storm that's spent, Lie hush'd, and meanly sneak behind thy covert.
Page 27 - Thou couldst not hold : self-vigorous he rose, And, shaking off thy fetters, soon retook Those spoils his voluntary yielding lent, (Sure pledge of our releasement from thy thrall !) Twice twenty days he sojourn'd here on earth, And show'd himself alive to chosen witnesses By proofs so strong, that the most slow-assenting Had not a scruple left. This having done, He mounted up to heaven.
Page 14 - Aovr shocking must thy summons be, O Death ! To him that is at ease in his possessions...

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