Comus: & Lycidas

Przednia okładka
University Press, 1919 - 208
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Strona 21 - So dear to Heaven is saintly Chastity, That, when a soul is found sincerely so, A thousand liveried angels lackey her, Driving far off each thing of sin and guilt...
Strona 103 - If ye endure chastening, God dealeth with you as with sons ; for what son is he whom the Father chasteneth not ? But if ye be without chastisement, whereof all are partakers, then are ye bastards and not sons.
Strona 41 - 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 dear Compels me to disturb your season due; For Lycidas is dead, dead ere his prime, Young Lycidas, and hath not left his peer.
Strona 18 - And wisdom's self Oft seeks to sweet retired solitude, Where with her best nurse contemplation She plumes her feathers, and lets grow her wings, That in the various bustle of resort Were all too ruffled, and sometimes impair'd. He that has light within his own clear breast May sit i...
Strona 44 - Built in the eclipse, and rigged with curses dark, That sunk so low that sacred head of thine. Next, Camus, reverend sire, went footing slow, His mantle hairy, and his bonnet sedge Inwrought with figures dim and on the edge Like to that sanguine flower inscribed with woe. " Ah ! who hath reft," quoth he, " my dearest pledge ! " — Last came, and last did go, The pilot of the Galilean lake.
Strona 44 - Enow of such, as for their bellies' sake Creep, and intrude, and climb into the fold! Of other care they little reck'ning make Than how to scramble at the shearers' feast, And shove away the worthy bidden guest. Blind mouths! that scarce themselves know how to hold A sheep-hook, or have learned aught else the least That to the faithful herdman's art belongs!
Strona 14 - Was I deceived, or did a sable cloud Turn forth her silver lining on the night ? I did not err : there does a sable cloud Turn forth her silver lining on the night, And casts a gleam over this tufted grove..
Strona 14 - Sweet echo, sweetest nymph, that liv'st unseen Within thy airy shell By slow Meander's margent green, And in the violet-embroidered vale Where the love-lorn nightingale Nightly to thee her sad song mourneth well: Canst thou not tell me of a gentle pair That likest thy Narcissus are? O, if thou have Hid them in some flowery cave, Tell me but where, Sweet Queen of Parley, Daughter of the Sphere! So may'st thou be translated to the skies, And give resounding grace to all Heaven's harmonies!
Strona 44 - That to the faithful herdman's art belongs! What recks it them? What need they? They are sped; And, when they list, their lean and flashy songs Grate on their scrannel pipes of wretched straw; The hungry sheep look up, and are not fed...
Strona xlvi - Memory and her siren daughters ; but by devout prayer to that Eternal Spirit who can enrich with all utterance and knowledge, and sends out his seraphim with the hallowed fire of his altar to touch and purify the lips of whom He pleases.

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