English Poems, Volume 1

Voorkant
Clarendon Press, 1880
 

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Pagina 150 - And wisdom at one entrance quite shut out. So much the rather thou, celestial Light, Shine inward, and the mind through all her powers Irradiate ; there plant eyes, all mist from thence Purge and disperse, that I may see and tell Of things invisible to mortal sight.
Pagina 36 - Pelops' line, Or the tale of Troy divine, too Or what (though rare) of later age Ennobled hath the buskin'd stage. But, O sad Virgin, that thy power Might raise Musaeus from his bower, Or bid the soul of Orpheus sing Such notes as warbled to the string Drew iron tears down Pluto's cheek, And made Hell grant what Love did seek.
Pagina 29 - HENCE, loathed Melancholy, Of Cerberus and blackest Midnight born In Stygian cave forlorn 'Mongst horrid shapes, and shrieks, and sights unholy! Find out some uncouth cell Where brooding Darkness spreads his jealous wings And the night-raven sings ; There under ebon shades, and low-brow'd rocks As ragged as thy locks, In dark Cimmerian desert ever dwell.
Pagina 92 - AVENGE, O Lord, thy slaughtered saints, whose bones Lie scattered on the Alpine mountains cold; Even them who kept thy truth so pure of old, When all our fathers worshipped stocks and stones, Forget not; in thy book record their groans Who were thy sheep, and in their ancient fold Slain by the bloody Piedmontese, that rolled Mother with infant down the rocks. Their moans The vales redoubled to the hills, and they To heaven. Their martyred blood and ashes sow O'er all the...
Pagina 149 - Eternal co-eternal beam May I express thee unblamed? since God is light, And never but in unapproached light Dwelt from eternity ; dwelt then in thee, # Bright effluence of bright essence increate ! Or hear'st thou rather pure ethereal stream, Whose fountain who shall tell? Before the Sun,— Before the Heavens thou wert ; and at the voice Of God, as with a mantle, didst invest 10 The rising world of waters dark and deep, Won from the void and formless infinite.
Pagina 202 - Fairest of stars, last in the train of night, If better thou belong not to the dawn, Sure pledge of day, that crown'st the smiling morn With thy bright circlet, praise him in thy sphere, While day arises, that sweet hour of prime.
Pagina 100 - What though the field be lost? All is not lost; the unconquerable will, And study of revenge, immortal hate, And courage never to submit or yield: And what is else not to be overcome?
Pagina 91 - Hast reared God's trophies, and his work pursued, While Darwen stream, with blood of Scots imbrued, And Dunbar field resounds thy praises loud, And Worcester's laureate wreath.
Pagina 58 - He that has light within his own clear breast, May sit i' th' centre, and enjoy bright day : But he that hides a dark soul, and foul thoughts, Benighted walks under the mid-day sun ; Himself is his own dungeon.
Pagina 201 - These are thy glorious works, Parent of good, Almighty, thine this universal frame, Thus wondrous fair ; thyself how wondrous then ! Unspeakable, who sitt'st above these heavens, To us invisible, or dimly seen In these thy lowest works; yet these declare Thy goodness beyond thought, and power divine.

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