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Seite 623 - Our souls, whose faculties can comprehend The wondrous architecture of the world, And measure every wandering planet's course, Still climbing after knowledge infinite, And always moving as the restless spheres, Will us to wear ourselves, and never rest, Until we reach the ripest fruit of all, That perfect bliss and sole felicity, The sweet fruition of an earthly crown.
Seite 625 - Ay, but to die, and go we know not where ; To lie in cold obstruction, and to rot ; This sensible warm motion to become A kneaded clod ; and the delighted spirit To bathe in fiery floods, or to reside In thrilling regions of thick-ribbed ice...
Seite 626 - Here she was wont to go ! and here ! and here ! Just where those daisies, pinks, and violets grow : The world may find the spring by following her, For other print her airy steps ne'er left. Her treading would not bend a blade of grass, Or shake the downy blow-ball from his stalk ! But like the soft west wind she shot along, And where she went, the flowers took thickest root, As she had sowed them with her odorous foot.
Seite 628 - twixt the breasts of Happiness — Who winks and shuts his apprehension up From common sense of what men were, and are ; Who would not know what men must be : let such Hurry amain from our black-visaged shows ; We shall affright their eyes.
Seite 635 - Their number last he sums. And now his heart Distends with pride, and, hardening in his strength, Glories : for never since created man Met such embodied force as, named with these, Could merit more than that small infantry Warr'd on by cranes : though all the giant brood Of Phlegra...
Seite 625 - To lie in cold obstruction and to rot; This sensible warm motion to become A kneaded clod; and the delighted spirit To bathe in fiery floods, or to reside In thrilling region of thick-ribbed ice; To be imprison'd in the viewless winds, And blown with restless violence round about The pendent world: or to be worse than worst Of those that lawless and incertain thought Imagine howling: — 'tis too horrible! The weariest and most loathed worldly life That age, ache, penury, and imprisonment Can lay...
Seite 624 - Come not to me again : but say to Athens, Timon hath made his everlasting mansion Upon the beached verge of the salt flood ; Whom once a day with his embossed froth The turbulent surge shall cover; thither come, And let my gravestone be your oracle.
Seite 67 - Candour, which spares its foes, nor e'er descends With bigot zeal to combat for its friends ; Candour, which loves in see-saw strain to tell Of acting foolishly but meaning well ; Too nice to praise by wholesale, or to blame, Convinced that all men's motives are the same, And finds, with keen discriminating sight, Black's not so black, nor white so very white.