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Page 64 - Astarte, queen of heaven, with crescent horns ; To whose bright image nightly by the moon Sidonian virgins paid their vows and songs, In Sion also not unsung, where stood Her temple on th' offensive mountain, built By that uxorious king, whose heart though large, Beguiled by fair idolatresses, fell To idols foul.
Page 64 - Ran purple to the sea, supposed with blood Of Thammuz yearly wounded : the love-tale Infected Sion's daughters with like heat, Whose wanton passions in the sacred porch Ezekiel saw, when, by the vision led, His eye surveyed the dark idolatries Of alienated Judah.
Page 266 - Let it suffice thee that thou know'st Us happy, and without love no happiness. Whatever pure thou in the body enjoy'st (And pure thou wert created) we enjoy In eminence, and obstacle find none Of membrane, joint, or limb, exclusive bars; Easier than air with air, if spirits embrace, Total they mix, union of pure with pure Desiring...
Page 64 - Thammuz came next behind, Whose annual wound in Lebanon allured The Syrian damsels to lament his fate In amorous ditties all a summer's day; While smooth Adonis from his native rock Ran purple to the sea, supposed with blood Of Thammuz yearly wounded...
Page 484 - A Series of Groups, Illustrating the Physiognomy, Manners, and Character of the People of France and Germany. By George Lewis. Containing Sixty Plates suitable to Illustrate the Original Edition of the Tour in France and Germany.
Page 266 - Commotion strange, in all enjoyments else Superior and unmoved, here only weak Against the charm of beauty's powerful glance.
Page 212 - I'd play with a child, And my sport would be wilder. I'd dance without tiring From morning till even, And the goal-ball I'd strike To the lightning of Heaven. At my bed-foot decaying, My hurl-bat is lying, Through the boys of the village My goal-ball is flying ; My horse 'mong the neighbours Neglected may fallow,— While I pine in my chains, In the gaol of Clonmala.
Page 545 - Oh, how oft shall he On faith and changed gods complain, and seas Rough with black winds and storms Unwonted shall admire, Who now enjoys thee credulous, all gold; Who always vacant, always amiable, Hopes thee, of flattering gales Unmindful ! Hapless they To whom thou...