Memorials of the Savoy: The Palace: the Hospital: the Chapel

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Macmillan and Company, 1873 - 267 頁
 

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第 198 頁 - Made in the last promotion of the blest ; Whose palms, new plucked from paradise, In spreading branches more sublimely rise, Rich with immortal green above the rest...
第 201 頁 - Born to the spacious empire of the Nine, One would have thought she should have been content To manage well that mighty government ; But what can young ambitious souls confine ? To the next realm she stretched her sway, For Painture near adjoining lay, A plenteous province and alluring prey.
第 198 頁 - Thou tread'st, with seraphims, the vast abyss : Whatever happy region is thy place, Cease thy celestial song a little space ; Thou wilt have time enough for hymns divine, Since Heaven's eternal year is thine. Hear, then, a mortal muse thy praise rehearse In no ignoble verse...
第 188 頁 - And his raiment became shining, exceeding white as snow ; so as no fuller on earth can white them.
第 200 頁 - Art she had none, yet wanted none; For nature did that want supply: So rich in treasures of her own, She might our boasted stores defy: Such noble vigour did her verse adorn, That it seem'd borrow'd where 'twas only born.
第 199 頁 - O heaven-born mind ! Thou hast no dross to purge from thy rich ore: Nor can thy soul a fairer mansion find Than was the beauteous frame she left behind: Return, to fill or mend the quire of thy celestial kind.
第 200 頁 - O gracious God! how far have we Profaned thy heavenly gift of poesy? Made prostitute and profligate the muse, Debased to each obscene and impious use, Whose harmony was first ordained above For tongues of angels, and for hymns of love?
第 200 頁 - That it seemed borrowed where 'twas only born. Her morals, too, were in her bosom bred, By great examples daily fed, What in the best of books, her father's life, she read : And to be read herself she need not fear ; Each test, and every light, her muse will bear, Though Epictetus with his lamp were there.
第 201 頁 - The country open lay without defence: For poets frequent inroads there had made, And perfectly could represent The shape, the face, with every lineament, And all the large domains which the Dumb Sister sway'd All bow'd beneath her government, Received in triumph, wheresoe'er she went. Her pencil drew whate'er her soul design'd, And oft the happy draught surpass'd the image in her mind.
第 68 頁 - For he seeth that wise men die, likewise the fool and the brutish person perish, and leave their wealth to others.

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