Paradise regain'd, a poem. To which is added Samson agonistes; and Poems upon several occasions, with a Tractate of education1747 |
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Страница 182
... Soul , And lap it in Elyfium ; Scylla wept , And chid her barking waves into attention , And fell Charybdis murmur'd soft applaufe : Yet they in pleasing flumber lull'd the Senfe , And in fweet madness robb'd it of itself . But fuch a ...
... Soul , And lap it in Elyfium ; Scylla wept , And chid her barking waves into attention , And fell Charybdis murmur'd soft applaufe : Yet they in pleasing flumber lull'd the Senfe , And in fweet madness robb'd it of itself . But fuch a ...
Страница 186
... soul , and foul thoughts , Benighted walks under the mid - day Sun ; Himself is his own dungeon . Y. Bro . ' Tis most true , That mufing meditation most affects The penfive fecrecy of defart Cell , Far from the cheerful haunt of men and ...
... soul , and foul thoughts , Benighted walks under the mid - day Sun ; Himself is his own dungeon . Y. Bro . ' Tis most true , That mufing meditation most affects The penfive fecrecy of defart Cell , Far from the cheerful haunt of men and ...
Страница 189
... Soul's effence , Till all be made immortal : but when Luft , By unchafte looks , loose gestures , and foul talk , But moft by leud and lavish act of fin , Lets in defilement to the inward parts , The Soul grows clotted by contagion ...
... Soul's effence , Till all be made immortal : but when Luft , By unchafte looks , loose gestures , and foul talk , But moft by leud and lavish act of fin , Lets in defilement to the inward parts , The Soul grows clotted by contagion ...
Страница 192
... Soul Under the ribs of Death ; but O ere long Too well I did perceive it was the voice Of my moft honour'd Lady , your dear Sifter . Amaz'd I ftood , harrow'd with grief and fear , And , O poor hapless Nightingale , thought 1 , How ...
... Soul Under the ribs of Death ; but O ere long Too well I did perceive it was the voice Of my moft honour'd Lady , your dear Sifter . Amaz'd I ftood , harrow'd with grief and fear , And , O poor hapless Nightingale , thought 1 , How ...
Страница 200
... Soul to apprehend The fublime notion , and high mystery That must be utter'd to unfold the fage And ferious doctrine of Virginity , And thou art worthy that thou should'st not know More happiness than this thy present lot . Enjoy your ...
... Soul to apprehend The fublime notion , and high mystery That must be utter'd to unfold the fage And ferious doctrine of Virginity , And thou art worthy that thou should'st not know More happiness than this thy present lot . Enjoy your ...
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Страница 367 - The end, then, of learning is to repair the ruins of our first parents by regaining to know God aright and out of that knowledge to love him, to imitate him, to be like him as we may the nearest by possessing our souls of true virtue, which being united to the heavenly grace of faith makes up the highest perfection.
Страница 212 - And though the shady gloom Had given day her room, The sun himself withheld his wonted speed, And hid his head for shame...
Страница 234 - WHAT needs my Shakespeare, for his honour'd bones, The labour of an age in piled stones? Or that his hallow'd relics should be hid Under a star-ypointing pyramid? Dear son of memory, great heir of fame, What need'st thou such weak witness of thy name? Thou, in our wonder and astonishment, Hast built thyself a livelong monument.
Страница 209 - THIS is the month, and this the happy morn Wherein the Son of Heaven's Eternal King Of wedded maid and virgin mother born, Our great redemption from above did bring...
Страница 210 - Muse, shall not thy sacred vein Afford a present to the Infant God? Hast thou no verse, no hymn, or solemn strain, To welcome him to this his new abode, Now while the Heav'n by the sun's team untrod, Hath took no print of the approaching light...
Страница 211 - But peaceful was the night Wherein the Prince of light His reign of peace upon the earth began; The winds with wonder whist, Smoothly the waters kissed Whispering new joys to the mild ocean — Who now hath quite forgot to rave, While birds of calm sit brooding on the charmed wave.
Страница 189 - Begin to cast a beam on the outward shape, The unpolluted temple of the mind, And turns it, by degrees, to the soul's essence, Till all be made immortal : but when lust, By unchaste looks, loose gestures, and foul talk, But most by lewd and lavish act of sin, Lets in defilement to the inward parts, The soul grows clotted by contagion, Imbodies, and imbrutes, till she quite lose The divine property of her first being.
Страница 235 - Here lies old Hobson. Death hath broke his girt, And here, alas! hath laid him in the dirt; Or else, the ways being foul, twenty to one He's here stuck in a slough, and overthrown. 'Twas such a shifter that, if truth were known, Death was half glad when he had got him down; For he had any time this ten years full Dodged with him betwixt Cambridge and The Bull.
Страница 211 - Pollute with sinful blame, The saintly veil of maiden white to throw ; Confounded, that her Maker's eyes Should look so near upon her foul deformities.
Страница 240 - Warblest at eve, when all the woods are still, Thou with fresh hope the lover's heart dost fill, While the jolly hours lead on propitious May ; Thy liquid notes that close the eye of day, First heard before the shallow cuckoo's bill, Portend success in love ; O if Jove's will Have linked that amorous power to thy soft lay, Now timely sing, ere the rude bird of hate...