Robert Blair

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.

Friendship! mysterious cement of the soul,
Sweet'ner of life, and solder of society.

Friendship! mysterious cement of the soul,
Sweet'ner of life, and solder of society.

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 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.

Smiled like yon knot of cowslips on a cliff.

Smiled like yon knot of cowslips on a cliff.