English Poems, Volúmenes1-2

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Página xxvi - Temple," and aptly,' for in the Temple of God, under His wing, he led his life in St. Mary's Church, near St. Peter's college ; there he lodged under Tertullian's roof of angels ; there he made his nest more gladly than David's swallow near the house of God : where, like a primitive saint, he offered more prayers in the night than others usually offer in the day.
Página 11 - And teach her fair steps tread our earth ; Till that divine Idea take a shrine Of crystal flesh, through which to shine : — Meet you her, my Wishes, Bespeak her to my blisses, And be ye call'd, my absent kisses.
Página 97 - Heaven thou hast in Him (Fair sister of the seraphim ! ) By all of Him we have in thee ; Leave nothing of myself in me. Let me so read thy life, that I Unto all life of mine may die.
Página 17 - Poor world (said I), what wilt thou do To entertain this starry Stranger ? Is this the best thou canst bestow ? A cold, and not too cleanly, manger ? Contend, the powers of Heaven and Earth, To fit a bed for this huge birth ? Chorus: Contend, the powers, etc.
Página 15 - I wish her store Of worth may leave her poor Of wishes ; and I wish no more. Now, if Time knows That Her whose radiant brows Weave them a garland of my vows...
Página 117 - Temple' and aptly, for in the Temple of God, under His wing, he led his life in St. Mary's Church, near St. Peter's College ; there he lodged under TBRTUI.LIAN'S roof of angels ; there he made his nest more gladly than David's swallow near the house of God : where, like a primitive saint, he offered more prayers in the night than others usually offer in the day ; there he penned these Poems, STEPS for happy souls to climb heaven by.
Página 77 - The dew no more will weep The primrose's pale cheek to deck, The dew no more will sleep, Nuzzled in the lily's neck; Much rather would it be thy tear, And leave them both to tremble here. There's no need at all That the balsam-sweating bough So coyly should let fall His med'cinable tears, for now Nature hath learnt t' extract a dew More sovereign and sweet from you.
Página 19 - Shall bless the fruitful Maia's bed, We'll bring the first-born of her flowers, To kiss thy feet, and crown thy head. To thee, dread Lamb! whose love must keep The shepherds...
Página 63 - Art thou not Lucifer ? he to whom the droves Of stars that gild the morn in charge were given ? The nimblest of the lightning-winged loves ? The fairest, and the first-born smile of...

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