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Sida 298 - Me miserable ! which way shall I fly Infinite wrath, and infinite despair? Which way I fly is Hell; myself am Hell; And, in the lowest deep, a lower deep Still threatening to devour me opens wide, To which the Hell I suffer seems a Heaven.
Sida 108 - Alas ! our young affections run to waste, Or water but the desert ; whence arise But weeds of dark luxuriance, tares of haste, Rank at the core, though tempting to the eyes, Flowers whose wild odours breathe but agonies, And trees whose gums are poison ; such the plants Which spring beneath her steps as Passion flies O'er the world's wilderness, and vainly pants For some celestial fruit forbidden to our wants.
Sida 169 - Oh Love ! no habitant of earth thou art — An unseen seraph, we believe in thee, — A faith whose martyrs are the broken heart...
Sida 71 - I have pass'da miserable night, So full of fearful dreams, of ugly sights, That, as I am a Christian faithful man, I would not spend another such a night Though 't were to buy a world of happy days ; So full of dismal terror was the time.
Sida 188 - Fates, severely kind, ordain A cool suspense from pleasure and from pain ; Thy life a long dead calm of fix'd repose : No pulse that riots, and no blood that glows. Still as the sea, ere winds were taught to blow, Or moving spirit bade the waters flow ; Soft as the slumbers of a saint forgiven, And mild as opening gleams of promis'd Heaven.
Sida 42 - Love took up the glass of Time, and turned it in his glowing hands ; Every moment, lightly shaken, ran itself in golden sands. Love took up the harp of Life, and smote on all the chords with might — Smote the chord of Self, that, trembling, passed in music out of sight.
Sida 173 - The swallows all have wing'd across the main; But here the autumn Melancholy dwells, And sighs her tearful spells Amongst the sunless shadows of the plain. Alone, alone, Upon a mossy stone, She sits and reckons up the dead and gone With the last leaves for a love-rosary, Whilst all the...
Sida 138 - Effie come — To lie within the light of God, as I lie upon your breast — And the wicked cease from troubling, and the weary are at rest THE LOTOS-EATERS "COURAGE!
Sida 1 - Beware Of entrance to a quarrel, but being in, Bear't that the opposed may beware of thee. Give every man thine ear, but few thy voice; Take each man's censure, but reserve thy judgment.
Sida 318 - I'll not be pleased with less than Cleopatra. Cleo. She's wholly yours. My heart's so full of joy, That I shall do some wild extravagance Of love, in public; and the foolish world, Which knows not tenderness, will think me mad.

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