Robert Blair Quotes
1699 – February 4, 1746
|
The Schoolboy, with his satchel in his hand,Whistling aloud to bear his courage up.
Part I, line 58. Compare: "Whistling to keep myself from being afraid", John Dryden, Amphitryon Act iii, scene 1. 
|
More Robert Blair Quotes
The Grave, dread thing!Men shiver when thou 'rt named: Nature, appall'd,Shakes off her wonted firmness.
Robert Blair— Part I, line 9.
Friendship! mysterious cement of the soul!Sweetener of life! and solder of society!
Robert Blair— Part I, line 88.
Of joys departed,Not to return, how painful the remembrance!
Robert Blair— Part I, line 109.
But if there be an hereafter,And that there is, conscience, uninfluenc'dAnd suffer'd to speak out, tells every man,Then must it be an awful thing to die;More horrid yet to die by one's own hand.
Robert Blair— Part I, line 398.
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.
Robert Blair— Part I, line 417.
The cup goes round:And who so artful as to put it by!'T is long since Death had the majority.
Robert Blair— Part II, line 449.
The good he scorn'dStalk'd off reluctant, like an ill-used ghost,Not to return; or if it did, in visitsLike those of angels, short and far between.
Robert Blair— Part II, line 586. Compare: "Like angels’ visits, short and bright", John Norris, The Parting.
The common damn'd shun their society.
Robert Blair— Referring to suicides in Hell. Attributed to Lamb, but not found in his works.
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.
Robert Blair— Robert Blair, The Grave, line 185.
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.
Robert Blair— Robert Blair, The Grave, line 67.
See yonder maker of the dead man's bed, The sexton, hoary-headed chronicle, Of hard, unmeaning face, down which ne'er stole A gentle tear.
Robert Blair— Robert Blair, The Grave, line 451.
The grave, dread thing! Men shiver when thou'rt named: Nature appalled, Shakes off her wonted firmness.
Robert Blair— Robert Blair, The Grave.
The tap'ring pyramid, the Egyptian's pride, And wonder of the world, whose spiky top Has wounded the thick cloud.
Robert Blair— Robert Blair, The Grave, line 190.
But if there be an hereafter, And that there is, conscience, uninfluenc'd And suffer'd to speak out, tells every man, Then must it be an awful thing to die; More horrid yet to die by one's own hand.
Robert Blair— Robert Blair, The Grave (1743), line 398.
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.
Robert Blair— Robert Blair, The Grave (1743), line 417.
The common damn'd shun their society.
Robert Blair— Robert Blair, The Grave (1743), referring to suicides in Hell. Attributed to Lamb, but not found in his works.
Ye undertakers, tell us, 'Midst all the gorgeous figures you exhibit, Why is the principal conceal'd, for which You make this mighty stir?
Robert Blair— Robert Blair, The Grave, line 170.
Careless, unsocial plant! that loves to dwell 'Midst skulls and coffins, epitaphs and worms: Where light-heel'd ghosts and visionary shades, Beneath the wan, cold Moon (as Fame reports) Embodied, thick, perform their mystic rounds. No other merriment, dull tree! is thine.
Robert Blair— Robert Blair, The Grave, line 22.
Smiled like yon knot of cowslips on a cliff.
Robert Blair— Robert Blair, The Grave (1743), line 520.
