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Adam angels appear arms behold bright bring brought called cloud comes dark death deep delight divine dread dwell earth evil eyes fair faith fall Father fear fell fire force fruit give glory gods grace hand happy hast hath head hear heard heart Heaven Hell hill honour hope King land leave less light live look Lord lost mind morn move nature never night once pain Paradise pass peace perhaps praise receive replied rest rise round SAMSON Satan seat seek seemed side sight soon soul spake spirits stand stood strength sweet taste thee thence things thou thought throne till tree turned virtue voice wide winds wings wonder
Сторінка 64 - 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.
Сторінка 422 - Fancy's child, Warble his native wood-notes wild. And ever against eating cares Lap me in soft Lydian airs Married to immortal verse, Such as the meeting soul may pierce In notes, with many a winding bout Of linked sweetness long drawn out, With wanton heed and giddy cunning, The melting voice through mazes running, Untwisting all the chains that tie The hidden soul of harmony; That Orpheus...
Сторінка 425 - Pelops' line, Or the tale of Troy divine ; 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. Or call up him that left...
Сторінка 30 - Less than archangel ruin'd, and the excess Of glory obscured : as when the sun, new risen, Looks through the horizontal misty air Shorn of his beams ; or from behind the moon, In dim eclipse, disastrous twilight sheds On half the nations, and with fear of change Perplexes monarchs.
Сторінка 462 - YET once more, O ye laurels, and once more, Ye myrtles brown, with ivy never sere, I come to pluck your berries harsh and crude, And with forced fingers rude Shatter your leaves before the mellowing year. Bitter constraint, and sad occasion...
Сторінка 462 - He must not float upon his watery bier Unwept, and welter to the parching wind, Without the meed of some melodious tear. Begin, then, Sisters of the sacred well That from beneath the seat of Jove doth spring; Begin, and somewhat loudly sweep the string.
Сторінка 63 - HAIL, holy Light, offspring of Heaven first-born ! Or of the Eternal coeternal 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 The rising World of waters dark and deep, Won from the void and...
Сторінка 424 - Gently o'er the accustom'd oak ; Sweet bird, that shunn'st the noise of folly, Most musical, most melancholy ! Thee, chantress, oft the woods among I woo, to hear thy even-song ; And, missing thee, I walk unseen On the dry smooth-shaven green, To behold the wandering moon, Riding near her highest noon, Like one that had been led astray Through the heaven's wide pathless way ; And oft, as if her head she bow'd, Stooping through a fleecy cloud.
Сторінка 421 - Which the neat-handed Phillis dresses; And then in haste her bower she leaves With Thestylis to bind the sheaves; Or, if the earlier season lead, To the tanned haycock in the mead. Sometimes, with secure delight, The upland hamlets will invite, When the merry bells ring round, And the jocund rebecks sound To many a youth and many a maid, Dancing in the chequered shade; And young and old come forth to play On a sunshine holiday...
Сторінка 408 - The oracles are dumb, No voice or hideous hum Runs through the arched roof in words deceiving. Apollo from his shrine Can no more divine With hollow shriek the steep of Delphos leaving. No nightly trance, or breathed spell, Inspires the pale-eyed priest from the prophetic cell.