And love the high-embowéd roof, And bring all Heaven before mine eyes. These pleasures, Melancholy, give, J. Milton CXLVI SONG OF THE EMIGRANTS IN BERMUDA Where the remote Bermudas ride That led us through the watery maze Unto an isle so long unknown, And yet far kinder than our own? Safe from the storms, and prelate's rage: And sends the fowls to us in care -Thus sung they in the English boat And all the way, to guide their chime, A. Marvell CXLVII AT A SOLEMN MUSIC Blest pair of Sirens, pledges of Heaven's joy, With saintly shout and solemn jubilee ; That we on Earth, with undiscording voice Jarr'd against nature's chime, and with harsh din To their great Lord, whose love their motion sway'd In perfect diapason, whilst they stood In first obedience, and their state of good. O may we soon again renew that Song, And keep in tune with Heaven, till God ere long To His celestial consort us unite, To live with Him, and sing in endless morn of light J. Milton CXLVIII NOX NOCTI INDICAT SCIENTIAM When I survey the bright So rich with jewels hung, that night My soul her wings doth spread, The Almighty's mysteries to read For the bright firmament So silent, but is eloquent No unregarded star Into so small a character, Removed far from our human sight, But if we steadfast look, We shall discern In it as in some holy book, How man may heavenly knowledge learn. It tells the Conqueror, That far-stretch'd power Which his proud dangers traffic for, That from the farthest North Yet undiscover'd issue forth, Some nation yet shut in With hills of ice, May be let out to scourge his sin, And then they likewise shall For as yourselves your Empires fall, Thus those celestial fires, The fallacy of our desires And all the pride of life, confute. For they have watch'd since first And found sin in itself accursed, W. Habington CXLIX HYMN TO DARKNESS Hail thou most sacred venerable thing! Who can the secrets of thy essence tell? Before great Love this monument did raise Before the birth of either time or place, Thou reign'st unquestion'd monarch in the empty space. Thy native lot thou didst to Light resign, Here with a quiet, but yet awful hand, To thy protection fear and sorrow flee, And those that weary are of light, find rest in thee. J. Norris of Bemerton |