Robert Blair

When it draws near to witching time of night.

When it draws near to witching time of night.

The good he scorned
Stalked off reluctant, like an ill-used ghost,
Not to return; or if it read more

The good he scorned
Stalked off reluctant, like an ill-used ghost,
Not to return; or if it did, in visits
Like those of angels, short and far between.

The grave, dread thing!
Men shiver when thou'rt named: Nature appalled,
Shakes off her wonted firmness.

The grave, dread thing!
Men shiver when thou'rt named: Nature appalled,
Shakes off her wonted firmness.

The best-concerted schemes men lay for fame,
Die fast away: only themselves die faster.
The far-fam'd sculptor, read more

The best-concerted schemes men lay for fame,
Die fast away: only themselves die faster.
The far-fam'd sculptor, and the laurell'd bard,
Those bold insurancers of deathless fame,
Supply their little feeble aids in vain.

Our time is fixed, and all our days are number'd;
How long, how short, we know not:--this we know,
read more

Our time is fixed, and all our days are number'd;
How long, how short, we know not:--this we know,
Duty requires we calmly wait the summons,
Nor dare to stir till Heaven shall give permission.