Steps to the Temple: Delights of the Muses, and Other Poems

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University Press, 1904 - English poetry - 401 pages

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Page 276 - O thou undaunted daughter of desires! By all thy dower of lights and fires; By all the eagle in thee, all the dove; By all thy lives and deaths of love; By thy...
Page 291 - ... lived but one life. Peace, good Reader, do not weep. Peace, the lovers are asleep ! They, sweet turtles, folded lie In the last knot that Love could tie. And though they lie as they were dead...
Page 279 - And bring her bosom full of blessings— Flowers of never-fading graces, To make immortal dressings, For worthy souls whose wise embraces Store up themselves for Him who is alone The spouse of virgins, and the virgin's son.
Page 378 - She sings thy tears asleep, and dips Her kisses in thy weeping eye; She spreads the red leaves of thy lips, That in their buds yet blushing lie. She 'gainst those mother-diamonds tries The points of her young eagle's eyes. Welcome — though not to those gay flies, Gilded i...
Page 162 - Days, that need borrow No part of their good morrow From a fore-spent night of sorrow. Days, that in spite Of darkness, by the light Of a clear mind are day all night. Nights, sweet as they Made short by lovers' play, Yet long by th
Page 271 - Shall flourish on thy brows, and be Both fire to us and flame to thee; Whose light shall live bright in thy face By glory, in our hearts by grace. • Thou shalt look round about, and see Thousands of crown'd souls throng to be Themselves thy crown. Sons...
Page 160 - s best By its own beauty drest, And can alone command the rest. A face made up Out of no other shop, Than what Nature's white hand sets ope. A cheek where youth, And blood, with pen of truth, Write, what the reader sweetly ru'th.
Page 269 - And lives, and dies ; and knows not why To live, but that he thus may never leave to die.
Page 204 - To thee, meek Majesty, soft King Of simple graces and sweet loves, Each of us his lamb will bring, Each his pair of silver doves; Till burnt at last, in fire of thy fair eyes, Ourselves become our own best sacrifice.
Page 274 - Read Him for her, and her for him; And call the Saint the Seraphim. Painter, what did'st thou understand To put her dart into his hand! See, even the...

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