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Act iii angels bear beauty better Book Book ii breath bright Canto Canto iii comes dead dear death deep devil doth dream earth Epistle eyes face fair fall fear feel fire fools give grave grow hand happy hast hath head hear heart heaven honor hope hour human Ibid John king leave lies light Line live look Lord lost man's mind morning Nature ne'er never Night o'er once passed play pleasure poor Prov reason sleep smile Song sorrow soul sound spirit stand Stanza stars sweet tale tears thee things THOMAS thou thought thousand true truth turn virtue voice walk wind wise woman young
103 ページ - But that I am forbid To tell the secrets of my prison-house, I could a tale unfold whose lightest word Would harrow up thy soul, freeze thy young blood, Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres, Thy knotted and combined locks to part, And each particular hair to stand on end, Like quills upon the fretful porpentine : But this eternal blazon must not be To ears of flesh and blood.
241 ページ - THE EPITAPH Here rests his head upon the lap of earth A youth to fortune and to fame unknown: Fair science frowned not on his humble birth, And melancholy marked him for her own. Large was his bounty, and his soul sincere, . Heaven did a recompense as largely send: He gave to misery all he had, a tear: He gained from heaven ('twas all he wished) a friend.
350 ページ - And thinking of the days that are no more. Fresh as the first beam glittering on a sail, That brings our friends up from the underworld, Sad as the last which reddens over one That sinks with all we love below the verge; So sad, so fresh, the days that are no more.
145 ページ - Satan except, none higher sat, with grave Aspect he rose, and in his rising seemed A pillar of state : deep on his front engraven Deliberation sat and public care ; And princely counsel in his face yet shone, Majestic though in ruin : sage he stood, With Atlantean shoulders fit to bear The weight of mightiest monarchies ; his look Drew audience and attention still as night Or summer's noontide air...
247 ページ - For, e'en though vanquished, he could argue still, While words of learned length and thundering sound Amazed the gazing rustics ranged around; And still they gazed, and still the wonder grew That one small head could carry all he knew.
94 ページ - The times have been That, when the brains were out, the man would die, And there an end ; but now they rise again, With twenty mortal murders on their crowns, And push us from our stools.
99 ページ - gainst that season comes Wherein our saviour's birth is celebrated, This bird of dawning singeth all night long : And then, they say, no spirit dares stir abroad ; The nights are wholesome ; then no planets strike, No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm, So hallow'd and so gracious is the time.
76 ページ - Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world, Like a Colossus ; and we petty men Walk under his huge legs, and peep about To find ourselves dishonorable graves.
285 ページ - In darkness and amid the many shapes Of joyless daylight; when the fretful stir Unprofitable, and the fever of the world, Have hung upon the beatings of my heart— How oft, in spirit, have I turned to thee, O sylvan Wye! thou wanderer thro' the woods, How often has my spirit turned to thee!