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Página 360 - CYRIACK, this three years' day these eyes, though clear, To outward view, of blemish or of spot, Bereft of light, their seeing have forgot ; Nor to their idle orbs doth sight appear Of sun, or moon, or star, throughout the year, Or man, or woman. Yet I argue not Against Heaven's hand or will, nor bate a jot Of heart or hope, but still bear up and steer Right onward.
Página 358 - ON HIS BLINDNESS. WHEN I consider how my light is spent Ere half my days, in this dark world and wide, And that one talent which is death to hide Lodged with me useless, though my soul more bent To serve therewith my Maker, and present 5 My true account, lest he returning chide; ' Doth God exact day-labour, light denied?
Página 107 - Rivers, or mountains, in her spotty globe. His spear - to equal which the tallest pine Hewn on Norwegian hills, to be the mast Of some great ammiral, were but a wand...
Página 277 - Hence, loathed Melancholy, Of Cerberus and blackest Midnight born In Stygian cave forlorn 'Mongst horrid shapes, and shrieks, and sights unholy! Find out some uncouth cell Where brooding Darkness spreads his jealous wings And the night-raven sings; There, under ebon shades and low-browed rocks As ragged as thy locks, In dark Cimmerian desert ever dwell.
Página 346 - Bid Amaranthus all his beauty shed, And daffadillies fill their cups with tears, To strew the laureate hearse where Lycid lies. For, so to interpose a little ease, Let our frail thoughts dally with false surmise; Ay me...
Página 169 - And wisdom at one entrance quite shut out. So much the rather thou, celestial Light Shine inward, and the mind through all her powers Irradiate, there plant eyes, all mist from thence Purge and disperse, that I may see and tell Of things invisible to mortal sight.
Página 281 - With store of ladies, whose bright eyes Rain influence and judge the prize Of wit or arms, while both contend To win her grace whom all commend. There let Hymen oft appear In saffron robe, with taper clear, And pomp and feast and revelry, With mask and antique pageantry, Such sights as youthful poets dream On summer eves by haunted stream. 130 Then to the well-trod stage anon, If Jonson's learned sock be on, Or sweetest Shakespeare, Fancy's child, Warble his native wood-notes wild.
Página 106 - What matter where, if I be still the same, And what I should be ; all but less than He Whom thunder hath made greater ? Here at least We shall be free ; the Almighty hath not built Here for his envy, will not drive us hence : Here we may reign secure, and in my choice, To reign is worth ambition, though in Hell : Better to reign in Hell, than serve in Heaven...
Página 343 - Lycidas? For neither were ye playing on the steep, Where your old bards, the famous druids, lie, Nor on the shaggy top of Mona high, Nor yet where Deva spreads her wizard stream-- Ay me! I fondly dream, Had ye been there; for what could that have done?