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Страница 849 - And did those feet in ancient time Walk upon England's mountains green? And was the holy Lamb of God On England's pleasant pastures seen?
Страница 848 - What the hammer ? what the chain ? In what furnace was thy brain ? What the anvil ? what dread grasp Dare its deadly terrors clasp ? When the stars threw down their spears, And watered heaven with their tears, Did he smile his work to see ? Did he who made the lamb make thee...
Страница 711 - The wolf also shall dwell with the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the kid; and the calf and the young lion and the falling together; and a little child shall lead them.
Страница 848 - Tyger! Tyger! burning bright In the forests of the night, What immortal hand or eye Could frame thy fearful symmetry? In what distant deeps or skies Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
Страница 844 - When the Sun rises, do you not see a round disk of fire somewhat "like a Guinea?" O no, no, I see an Innumerable company of the Heavenly host crying 'Holy, Holy, Holy is the Lord God Almighty.
Страница 844 - it will be questioned ; ' when the sun rises, do you not see a round disc of fire, somewhat like a guinea ? ' Oh ! no, no ! I see an innumerable company of the heavenly host, crying : ' Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God Almighty ! ' I question not my corporeal eye, any more than I would question a window concerning a sight.
Страница 846 - Till I the prince of love beheld, Who in the sunny beams did glide! He shew'd me lilies for my hair, And blushing roses for my brow; He led me through his gardens fair, Where all his golden pleasures grow.
Страница 51 - The foregoing seventy-three titles embrace the statutes of the United States, 'general and permanent in their nature, in force on the first day of December, one thousand eight hundred and seventy-three...
Страница 526 - The rocks are cloven, and through the purple night I see cars drawn by rainbow-winged steeds Which trample the dim winds: in each there stands A wild-eyed charioteer urging their flight. Some look behind, as fiends pursued them there, And yet I see no shapes but the keen stars: Others, with burning eyes, lean forth, and drink With eager lips the wind of their own speed. As if the thing they loved fled on before, And now, even now, they clasped it. Their bright locks Stream like a comet's flashing...