Comus: A Mask

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G. Routledge & Company, 1858 - 90 pages

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Page 25 - Assyrian queen: But far above in spangled sheen Celestial Cupid, her famed son, advanced, Holds his dear Psyche sweet entranced, After her wandering labours long, Till free consent the gods among Make her his eternal bride, And from her fair unspotted side Two blissful twins are to be born, Youth and Joy ; so Jove hath sworn. But now my task is smoothly done, I can fly, or I can run...
Page 5 - And in sweet madness robbed it of itself, But such a sacred and home-felt delight, Such sober certainty of waking bliss, I never heard till now.
Page 19 - How charming is divine philosophy ! Not harsh, and crabbed, as dull fools suppose, But musical as is Apollo's lute, And a perpetual feast of nectared sweets, Where no crude surfeit reigns.
Page 5 - Was I deceived, or did a sable cloud Turn forth her silver lining on the night ? I did not err, there does a sable cloud Turn forth her silver lining on the night...
Page 5 - Sweet echo, sweetest nymph, that liv'st unseen Within thy airy shell By slow Meander's margent green, And in the violet-embroidered vale Where the love-lorn nightingale Nightly to thee her sad song mourneth well: Canst thou not tell me of a gentle pair That likest thy Narcissus are? O, if thou have Hid them in some flowery cave, Tell me but where, Sweet Queen of Parley, Daughter of the Sphere! So may'st thou be translated to the skies, And give resounding grace to all Heaven's harmonies!
Page 17 - Impostor! do not charge most innocent Nature, As if she would her children should be riotous With her abundance. She, good cateress, Means her provision only to the good, That live according to her sober laws, And holy dictate of spare Temperance.
Page 32 - In Egypt gave to Jove-born Helena Is of such power to stir up joy as this, To life so friendly, or so cool to thirst.
Page 5 - This is the place, as well as I may guess, Whence even now the tumult of loud mirth Was rife, and perfect in my listening ear, Yet nought but single darkness do I find. What might this be ? A thousand fantasies Begin to throng into my memory, Of calling shapes, and beck'ning shadows dire, And airy tongues, that syllable men's names On sands, and shores, and desert wildernesses.
Page 1 - We, that are of purer fire, Imitate the starry quire ; Who, in their nightly watchful spheres, Lead in swift round the months and years. The sounds and seas, with all their finny drove, Now to the moon in wavering morrice move; And, on the tawny sands and shelves, Trip the pert fairies and the dapper elves.
Page 18 - Till all be made immortal. But, when lust By unchaste looks, loose gestures, and foul talk, But most by lewd and lavish act of sin, Lets in defilement to the inward parts, The soul grows clotted by contagion Imbodies, and imbrutes, till she quite lose The divine property of her first being.

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