Titan

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Página 87 - And God made two great lights; the greater light to rule the day, and the lesser light to rule the night: he made the stars also.
Página 77 - Who roll'd the psalm to wintry skies, Who built him fanes of fruitless prayer, Who trusted God was love indeed And love Creation's final law— Tho...
Página 366 - There sometimes doth a leaping fish Send through the tarn a lonely cheer; The crags repeat the raven's croak, In symphony austere ; Thither the rainbow comes — the cloud — • And mists that spread the flying shroud ; And sunbeams ; and the sounding blast, That, if it could, would hurry past; But that enormous barrier binds it fast.
Página 78 - Whence, then, cometh Wisdom ? And where is the place of Understanding — Seeing it is hid from the eyes of all living, And kept close from the fowls of the air ? Destruction and Death say, " We have heard the fame thereof with our ears.
Página 122 - I stuff my skin so full within Of jolly good ale and old. Back and side go bare, go bare; Both foot and hand go cold ; But, belly, God send thee good ale enough, Whether it be new or old.
Página 322 - Let darkness and the shadow of death stain it; let a cloud dwell upon it; let the blackness of the day terrify it.
Página 598 - Let us walk honestly, as in the day; not in rioting and drunkenness, not in chambering and wantonness, not in strife and envying. But put ye on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make not provision for the flesh, to fulfil the lusts thereof.
Página 154 - WHEN descends on the Atlantic The gigantic Storm-wind of the equinox, Landward in his wrath he scourges The toiling surges, Laden with seaweed from the rocks: From Bermuda's reefs; from edges Of sunken ledges, In some far-off, bright Azore; From Bahama, and the dashing, Silver-flashing Surges of San Salvador; From the tumbling surf, that buries The Orkneyan skerries, Answering the hoarse Hebrides; And from wrecks of ships, and drifting Spars, uplifting On the desolate, rainy seas; — Ever drifting,...
Página 77 - Thou makest thine appeal to me: I bring to life, I bring to death: The spirit does but mean the breath : I know no more.
Página 115 - The little fellows went quietly to their own beds, and began undressing and talking to one another in whispers; while the elder, amongst whom was Tom, sat chatting about on one another's beds, with their jackets and waistcoats off. Poor little Arthur was overwhelmed with the novelty of his position. The idea of sleeping in the room with strange boys had clearly never crossed his mind before, and was as painful as it was strange to him. He could hardly bear to take his jacket off; however, presently...

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