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Страница 154 - Fairest of stars, last in the train of night, If better thou belong not to the dawn, Sure pledge of day, that crown'st the smiling morn With thy bright circlet, praise him in thy sphere, While day arises, that sweet hour of prime. Thou sun, of this great world both eye and soul, Acknowledge him thy greater ; sound his praise In thy eternal course, both when thou climb'st, And when high noon hast gain'd, and when thou fall'st.
Страница 20 - Tis pleasant, through the loopholes of retreat, To peep at such a world ; to see the stir Of the great Babel, and not feel the crowd ; To hear the roar she sends through all her gates At a safe distance, where the dying sound Falls a soft murmur on the uninjured ear.
Страница 102 - Cease then, nor order imperfection name : Our proper bliss depends on what we blame. Know thy own point : This kind, this due degree Of blindness, weakness, heaven bestows on thee. Submit. — In this, or any other sphere, Secure to be as blest as thou canst bear : Safe in the hand of one disposing pow'r, Or in the natal, or the mortal hour.
Страница 66 - When Israel, of the Lord beloved, Out of the land of bondage came, Her fathers' God before her moved, An awful guide, in smoke and flame. By day, along the astonished lands The cloudy pillar glided slow; By night, Arabia's crimson'd sands Return'd the fiery column's glow.
Страница 140 - Their blood is shed In confirmation of the noblest claim, Our claim to feed upon immortal truth, To walk with God, to be divinely free, To soar, and to anticipate the skies.
Страница 67 - No portents now our foes amaze, Forsaken Israel wanders lone ; Our fathers would not know THY ways, And THOU hast left them to their own. But, present still, though now unseen ; When brightly shines the prosperous day, Be thoughts of THEE a cloudy screen To temper the deceitful ray. And...
Страница 367 - The cloud-capt towers, the gorgeous palaces, The solemn temples, the great globe itself, Yea, all which it inherits, shall dissolve ; And, like the baseless fabric of a vision, Leave not a wreck behind ! we are such stuff As dreams are made on, and our little life Is rounded with a sleep.
Страница 335 - Still in thought as free as ever, What are England's rights, I ask, Me from my delights to sever, Me to torture, me to task? Fleecy locks and black complexion Cannot forfeit Nature's claim ; Skins may differ, but affection? Dwells in white and black the same.
Страница 350 - Ye winds that have made me your sport, Convey to this desolate shore Some cordial endearing report Of a land I shall visit no more. My friends, do they now and then send A wish or a thought after me? O tell me I yet have a friend, Though a friend I am never to see.