Health without physic; or Cordials for youth, manhood, and old age, by an old physician

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Seite 227 - The glories of our blood and state Are shadows, not substantial things ; There is no armour against fate ; Death lays his icy hand on kings : Sceptre and crown Must tumble down, And in the dust be equal made With the poor crooked scythe and spade.
Seite 135 - To hear the lark begin his flight And singing startle the dull night From his watch-tower in the skies, Till the dappled dawn doth rise...
Seite 85 - I cannot eat but little meat, My stomach is not good ; But sure I think, that I can drink With him that wears a hood...
Seite 208 - MAN, that is born of a woman, hath but a short time to live, and is full of misery. He cometh up, and is cut down like a flower ; he fleeth as it were a shadow, and never continueth in one stay.
Seite 85 - Therefore, the poet Did feign that Orpheus drew trees, stones, and floods ; Since nought so stockish, hard, and full of rage, But music for the time doth change his nature...
Seite 83 - For do but note a wild and wanton herd, Or race of youthful and unhandled colts, Fetching mad bounds, bellowing and neighing loud, Which is the hot condition of their blood; If they but hear perchance a trumpet sound, Or any air of music touch their ears, You shall perceive them make a mutual stand, Their savage eyes...
Seite 14 - There came into the shop a very learned man with an erect solemn air ; and, though a person of great parts otherwise, slow in understanding any thing which makes against himself. The composure of the faulty man, and the whimsical perplexity of him that was justly angry, is perfectly new. After turning over many volumes, said the seller to the buyer, ' Sir, you know I have long asked you to send me back the first volume of French sermons I formerly lent you.
Seite 235 - For honourable age is not that which standeth in length of time, nor that is measured by number of years. But wisdom is the gray hair unto men, and an unspotted life is old age.
Seite 135 - Earth Put forth the verdant grass, herb yielding seed, And fruit-tree yielding fruit after her kind, Whose seed is in herself upon the Earth.
Seite 168 - But bring a Scotsman frae his hill, Clap in his cheek a Highland gill, Say, such is royal George's will, An' there's the foe, He has nae thought but how to kill Twa at a blow. Nae cauld, faint-hearted doubtings tease him: Death comes, wi' fearless eye he sees him; Wi' bluidy hand a welcome gies him : An' when he fa's, His latest draught o' breathin lea'es him In faint huzzas.

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