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الصفحة 412 - Spare Fast, that oft with gods doth diet, And hears the Muses in a ring Aye round about Jove's altar sing; And add to these retired Leisure, That in trim gardens takes his pleasure; But first and chiefest, with thee bring Him that yon soars on golden wing, Guiding the fiery-wheeled throne, The Cherub Contemplation ; And the mute Silence hist along, 'Less Philomel will deign a song, In her sweetest saddest plight.
الصفحة 144 - Nothing is here for tears, nothing to wail Or knock the breast ; no weakness, no contempt, Dispraise, or blame ; nothing but well and fair, And what may quiet us in a death so noble.
الصفحة 415 - And, as I wake, sweet music breathe Above, about, or underneath, Sent by some Spirit to mortals good, Or the unseen Genius of the wood. But let my due feet never fail To walk the studious cloister's pale, And love the high embowed roof, With antique pillars massy proof, And storied windows richly dight, Casting a dim religious light.
الصفحة 408 - To hear the lark begin his flight, And singing startle the dull night, From his watch-tower in the skies, Till the dappled...
الصفحة 428 - We, that are of purer fire, Imitate the starry quire ; Who, in their nightly watchful spheres, Lead in swift round the months and years. The sounds and seas, with all their finny drove, Now to the moon in wavering morrice move ; And on the tawny sands and shelves Trip the pert fairies and the dapper elves.
الصفحة 262 - Oaks and rills, While the still morn went out with Sandals gray, He touched the tender stops of various Quills, With eager thought warbling his Doric lay: And now the Sun had stretched out all the hills, And now was dropt into the Western bay; At last he rose, and twitched his Mantle blue: To-morrow to fresh Woods, and Pastures new.
الصفحة 443 - Yea, even that which Mischief meant most harm Shall in the happy trial prove most glory. But evil on itself shall back recoil...
الصفحة 390 - While the heaven-born child 30 All meanly wrapt in the rude manger lies; Nature, in awe to him, Had doffed her gaudy trim, With her great Master so to sympathize: It was no season then for her To wanton with the Sun, her lusty paramour. II. Only with speeches fair She woos the gentle air To hide her guilty front with innocent snow...
الصفحة 415 - With antique pillars massy proof, And storied windows richly dight, Casting a dim religious light. There let the pealing organ blow, To the full-voiced quire below, In service high and anthems clear, As may with sweetness, through mine ear, Dissolve me into ecstasies, And bring all Heaven before mine eyes.
الصفحة 390 - But He, her fears to cease, Sent down the meek-eyed Peace ; She, crowned with olive green, came softly sliding Down through the turning sphere His ready harbinger, With turtle wing the amorous clouds dividing; And waving wide her myrtle wand, She strikes a universal peace through sea and land.

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