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Page 118 - TEARS, idle tears, I know not what they mean, Tears from the depth of some divine despair Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes, In looking on the happy Autumn-fields, And thinking of the days that are no more. Fresh as the first beam glittering on a sail, That brings our friends up from the underworld, Sad as the last which reddens over one That sinks with all we love below the verge ; So sad, so fresh...
Page 119 - O Swallow, Swallow, if I could follow, and light Upon her lattice, I would pipe and trill, And cheep and twitter twenty million loves. O were I thou that she might take me in, And lay me on her bosom, and her heart Would rock the snowy cradle till I died.
Page 119 - O, were I thou that she might take me in, And lay me on her bosom, and her heart Would rock the snowy cradle till I died! Why lingereth she to clothe her heart with love, Delaying as the tender ash delays To clothe herself, when all the woods are green?
Page 118 - And thinking of the days that are no more. Fresh as the first beam glittering on a sail That brings our friends up from the underworld, Sad as the last which reddens over one That sinks with all we love below the verge; So sad, so fresh, the days that are no more.
Page 309 - For what is our hope or joy or crown of rejoicing ? are not even ye in the presence of our Lord Jesus Christ at his coming ? For ye are our glory and joy.
Page 357 - But the images of men's wits and knowledges remain in books, exempted from the wrong of time, and capable of perpetual renovation. Neither are they fitly to be called images, because they generate still, and cast their seeds in the minds of others, provoking and causing infinite actions and opinions in succeeding ages...
Page 145 - We praise Thee, we bless Thee, we worship Thee, we glorify Thee, we give thanks to Thee for Thy great glory, O LORD GOD, heavenly KING, GOD the FATHER Almighty.
Page 248 - Till with their crooks and bags a sort of boys, To share with him, come with so great a noise That he is forced to leave a nut nigh broke, And for his life leap to a...
Page 572 - As nature meant her sorrow for an ornament : After, her looks grew cheerful, and I saw A smile shoot graceful upward from her eyes, As if they had gain'da victory o'er grief; And with it many beams twisted themselves. Upon •whose golden threads the angels walk To and again from heaven* Essay on the Learning of Shakespeare.
Page 160 - But, however that may be, one circumstance was highly remarkable — that the innumerable ideas which flashed into my mind were all retrospective. Yet I had been religiously brought up, my hopes and fears of the next world had lost nothing of their early strength, and at any other period intense interest and awful anxiety would have been excited by the mere probability that I was floating on the threshold of eternity ; yet at that inexplicable moment, when I had a full conviction that I had...