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Página 89 - Tunes her nocturnal note : thus with the year Seasons return, but not to me returns Day, or the sweet approach of even or morn, Or sight of vernal bloom, or summer's rose, Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine ; But cloud instead, and ever-during dark Surrounds me...
Página 144 - Shine not in vain : nor think, though men were none That heaven would want spectators, God want praise'; Millions of spiritual creatures walk the earth Unseen, both when we wake and when we sleep. All these with ceaseless praise His works behold, Both day and night.
Página 167 - Angels; for ye behold him, and with songs And choral symphonies, day without night, Circle his throne rejoicing; ye in Heaven, On earth join, all ye creatures, to extol Him first, him last, him midst, and without end.
Página 50 - Devoid of sense and motion? And who knows, Let this be good, whether our angry Foe Can give it, or will ever? How he can Is doubtful; that he never will is sure. Will he, so wise, let loose at once his ire Belike through impotence, or unaware, To give his enemies their wish, and end Them in his anger, whom his anger saves To punish endless? Wherefore cease we then?
Página 406 - There is, said Michael, if thou well observe The rule of Not too much ; by temperance taught, In what thou eat'st and drink'st ; seeking from thence Due nourishment, not gluttonous delight, Till many years over thy head return : So may'st thou live ; till, like ripe fruit, thou drop Into thy mother's lap ; or be with ease Gather'd, not harshly pluck'd, for death mature : This is Old Age...
Página 119 - O thou that, with surpassing glory crown'd, Look'st from thy sole dominion, like the god Of this new world, at whose sight all the stars Hide their diminish'd heads, to thee I call, But with no friendly voice, and add thy name, 0 sun, to tell thee how I hate thy beams, That bring to my remembrance from what state 1 fell, how glorious once above thy sphere...
Página 447 - Which he hath sent propitious some great good Presaging, since, with sorrow and heart's distress Wearied, I fell asleep : but now lead on ; In me is no delay ; with thee to go Is to stay here ; without thee here to stay Is to go hence unwilling ; thou to me Art all things under heaven, all places thou. Who for my wilful crime art banish'd hence This further consolation yet secure I carry hence ; though all by me is lost, Such favour I unworthy am vouchsafed, By me the promised Seed shall all restore.
Página 237 - Urania, and fit audience find, though few. But drive far off the barbarous dissonance Of Bacchus and his revellers, the race Of that wild rout that tore the Thracian Bard In Rhodope, where woods and rocks had ears To rapture, till the savage clamour drowned Both harp and voice ; nor could the Muse defend Her son.