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2,201 illustrations — Poetic illustrations and verse for preaching
Go, for they call you, shepherd, from the hill; Go, shepherd, and untie the wattled cotes! No longer leave thy wistful flock unfed, Nor let thy bawling fellows rack their throats, Nor the cropped herbage shoot another head.
Kind solace in a dying hour! Such, father, is not (now) my theme-- I will not madly deem that power Of Earth may shrive me of the sin Unearthly pride hath revelled in-- I have no time to dote or...
The spider spreads her webs, whether she be In poet's tower, cellar, or barn, or tree; The silk-worm in the dark green mulberry leaves His winding sheet and cradle ever weaves; So I, a thing whom moralists call worm, Sit...
I had a dream, which was not all a dream.
Mean while the heinous and despiteful act Of Satan, done in Paradise; and how He, in the serpent, had perverted Eve, Her husband she, to taste the fatal fruit, Was known in Heaven; for what can 'scape the eye Of...
A pale Dream came to a Lady fair, And said, A boon, a boon, I pray! I know the secrets of the air, And things are lost in the glare of day, Which I can make the sleeping see, If...
There's a palace in Florence, the world knows well, And a statue watches it from the square, And this story of both do our townsmen tell.
quit me not yet, for the wind whistles shrill, Its blast wanders mournfully over the hill, The thunder's wild voice rattles madly above, You will not then, cannot then, leave me my love.--' I must dearest Agnes, the night is...
'Not by the justice that my father spurn'd, Not for the thousands whom my father slew, Altars unfed and temples overturn'd, Cold hearts and thankless tongues, where thanks are due; Fell this dread voice from lips that cannot lie, Stern...
This is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines and the hemlocks, Bearded with moss, and in garments green, indistinct in the twilight, Stand like Druids of eld, with voices sad and prophetic, Stand like harpers hoar, with beards that rest on their bosoms.
WHILOM, as olde stories tellen us, There was a duke that highte Theseus. Of Athens he was lord and governor, And in his time such a conqueror That greater was there none under the sun. Full many a riche country had he won.
Hail to thee, blithe Spirit! Bird thou never wert, That from Heaven, or near it, Pourest thy full heart In profuse strains of unpremeditated art.
Meanwhile the new-baptized, who yet remained At Jordan with the Baptist, and had seen Him whom they heard so late expressly called Jesus Messiah, Son of God, declared, And on that high authority had believed, And with him talked, and...
THE indications, and tally of time; Perfect sanity shows the master among philosophs; Time, always without flaw, indicates itself in parts; What always indicates the poet, is the crowd of the pleasant company of singers, and their words; The words...
Adieu, thou Hill! where early joy Spread roses o'er my brow; Where Science seeks each loitering boy With knowledge to endow.
For your letter, dear -- , accept my best thanks, Rendered long and amusing by virtue of franks, Though concise they would please, yet the longer the better, The more news that's crammed in, more amusing the letter, All excuses...
THE FOURTH PASTORAL, OR DAPHNE. TO THE MEMORY OF MRS TEMPEST. Thyrsis, the music of that murmuring spring Is not so mournful as the strains you sing; Nor rivers winding through the vales below, So sweetly warble, or so smoothly flow.
Before my drift-wood fire I sit, And see, with every waif I burn, Old dreams and fancies coloring it, And folly's unlaid ghosts return.
SCENE 1: THE MASQUE OF THE INNS OF COURT. A PURSUIVANT: Place, for the Marshal of the Masque! FIRST CITIZEN: What thinkest thou of this quaint masque which turns, Like morning from the shadow of the night, The night to...
How sweetly shines, through azure skies, The lamp of Heaven on Lora's shore; Where Alva's hoary turrets rise, And hear the din of arms no more!
A PHILOSOPHICAL POEM, WITH ECRASEZ L'INFAME!--Correspondance de Voltaire. Avia Pieridum peragro loca, nullius ante Trita solo; juvat integros accedere fonteis; Atque haurire: juvatque novos decerpere flores. Unde prius nulli velarint tempora musae. Primum quod magnis doceo de rebus; et arctis Religionum animos nodis exsolvere pergo.--Lucret.
What a pretty tale you told me Once upon a time --Said you found it somewhere (scold me!) Was it prose or was it rhyme, Greek or Latin? Greek, you said, While your shoulder propped my head.
I 'But where do you go?' said the lady, while both sat under the yew, And her eyes were alive in their depth, as the kraken beneath the sea-blue.
Blessings on thee, little man, Barefoot boy, with cheek of tan!
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