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Página 9 - Hail Mary, full of grace! the Lord is with thee: blessed art thou amongst women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death. Amen.
Página 110 - O thou undaunted daughter of desires ! By all thy dower of lights and fires ; By all the eagle in thee, all the dove; By all thy lives and deaths of love; By thy large draughts of intellectual day, And by thy thirsts of love more large than they ; By all thy...
Página 93 - Not in the evening's eyes, When they red with weeping are For the sun that dies, Sits sorrow with a face so fair; Nowhere but here did ever meet Sweetness so sad, sadness so sweet.
Página 114 - Amorous languishments, luminous trances; Sights which are not seen with eyes; Spiritual and soul-piercing glances, Whose pure and subtle lightning flies Home to the heart, and sets the house on fire And melts it down in sweet desire: Yet does not stay To ask the windows...
Página 104 - Each heavenly word by whose hid flame Our hard hearts shall strike fire, the same Shall flourish on thy brows, and be Both fire to us and flame to thee; Whose light shall live bright in thy face By glory, in our hearts by grace.
Página 105 - To him; put on, (he'll say,) put on (My rosy love) that thy rich zone Sparkling with the sacred flames Of thousand souls, whose happy names Heav'n keeps upon thy score. (Thy bright Life brought them first to kiss the light, That kindled them to stars).
Página 42 - 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, more than they the sheep. To Thee, meek Majesty ! soft King Of simple Graces and sweet Loves : Each of us his lamb will bring, Each his pair of silver doves : Till burnt at last in fire of Thy fair eyes, Ourselves become our own best sacrifice.
Página 39 - 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.
Página 100 - Scarce has she learnt to lisp the name Of martyr; yet she thinks it shame Life should so long play with that breath Which spent can buy so brave a death.