Arundines cami: Sive, Musarum Cantabrigiensium lusus canori

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Henry Drury
Deighton, Bell, et Soc., 1865 - English poetry - 376 pages
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Page 270 - It were all one, That I should love a bright particular star, And think to wed it, he is so above me : In his bright radiance and collateral light Must I be comforted, not in his sphere. Th...
Page 62 - There, held in holy passion still, Forget thyself to marble, till With a sad, leaden, downward cast Thou fix them on the earth as fast.
Page 86 - Risest from forth thy silent sea of pines, How silently ! Around thee and above, Deep is the air and dark, substantial, black, An ebon mass : methinks thou piercest it, As with a wedge ! But when I look again, It is thine own calm home, thy crystal shrine, Thy habitation from eternity ! 0 dread and silent mount ! I gazed upon thee, Till thou, still present to the bodily sense, Didst vanish from my thought : entranced in prayer, I worshipped the Invisible alone.
Page 78 - He makes the figs our mouths to meet And throws the melons at our feet; But apples, plants of such a price, No tree could ever bear them twice. With cedars chosen by His hand From Lebanon He stores the land; And makes the hollow seas that roar Proclaim the ambergris on shore.
Page 218 - But now farewell. I am going a long way With these thou seest — if indeed I go — (For all my mind is clouded with a doubt) To the island-valley of Avilion ; Where falls not hail, or rain, or any snow, Nor ever wind blows loudly ; but it lies Deep-meadow'd, happy, fair with orchard-lawns And bowery hollows crown'd with summer sea, Where I will heal me of my grievous wound.
Page 306 - The star that bids the shepherd fold Now the top of heaven doth hold ; And the gilded car of day His glowing axle doth allay In the steep Atlantic stream : And the slope sun his upward beam Shoots against the dusky pole, Pacing toward the other goal Of his chamber in the east.
Page 72 - Our very hopes belied our fears, Our fears our hopes belied ; We thought her dying when she slept, And sleeping when she died.
Page 248 - The current, that with gentle murmur glides, Thou know'st, being stopp'd, impatiently doth rage ; But, when his fair course is not hindered, He makes sweet music with the enamel'd stones, Giving a gentle kiss to every sedge He overtaketh in his pilgrimage ; And so by many winding nooks he strays With willing sport to the wild ocean.
Page 98 - SHOULD auld acquaintance be forgot, And never brought to min' ? Should auld acquaintance be forgot, And days o' lang syne ? For auld lang syne, my dear, For auld lang syne, We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet For auld lang syne.
Page 206 - The isles of Greece! the isles of Greece! Where burning Sappho loved and sung, Where grew the arts of war and peace, Where Delos rose, and Phoebus sprung! Eternal summer gilds them yet, But all, except their sun, is set.

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