Monday, August 21, 2017 Text is available under the CC BY-SA 3.0 licence.

Robert Blair (1699 – 1746)


Scottish poet.
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Robert Blair
The Grave, dread thing!
Men shiver when thou 'rt named: Nature, appall'd,
Shakes off her wonted firmness.
Blair quotes
Friendship! mysterious cement of the soul!
Sweetener of life! and solder of society!
Blair
The cup goes round:
And who so artful as to put it by!
'T is long since Death had the majority.




Blair Robert quotes
Of joys departed,
Not to return, how painful the remembrance!
Blair Robert
The common damn'd shun their society.
Robert Blair quotes
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
The Schoolboy, with his satchel in his hand,
Whistling aloud to bear his courage up.
Blair Robert quotes
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.
Blair
The good he scorn'd
Stalk'd off reluctant, like an ill-used ghost,
Not to return; or if it did, in visits
Like those of angels, short and far between.
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