Paradise Regained: Samson Agonistes, Comus and Arcades

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J. Sharpe, 1823 - 377页
 

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第3页 - Yet some there be that, by due steps, aspire To lay their just hands on that golden key That opes the palace of eternity. To such my errand is...
第6页 - 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.
第16页 - Virtue could see to do what Virtue would By her own radiant light, though sun and moon Were in the flat sea sunk.
第4页 - Imperial rule of all the sea-girt isles That, like to rich and various gems, inlay The unadorned bosom of the deep...
第16页 - He that has light within his own clear breast May sit i' the centre, and enjoy bright day ; But he that hides a dark soul and foul thoughts Benighted walks under the mid-day sun ; Himself is his own dungeon.
第30页 - 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.
第34页 - By hoary Nereus' wrinkled look, And the Carpathian wizard's hook ; By scaly Triton's winding shell, And old soothsaying Glaucus' spell ; By Leucothea's lovely hands, And her son that rules the strands ; By Thetis...
第10页 - Why shouldst thou, but for some felonious end, In thy dark lantern thus close up the stars That Nature hung in heaven, and filled their lamps With everlasting oil to give due light To the misled and lonely traveller?
第2页 - Think not but that I know these things, or think I know them not ; not therefore am I short Of knowing what I ought : he, who receives Light from above, from the Fountain of Light, No other doctrine needs, though granted true ; 290 But these are false, or little else but dreams, Conjectures, fancies, built on nothing firm.
第10页 - What might this be ? A thousand fantasies Begin to throng into my memory, Of calling shapes, and beckoning shadows dire, And airy tongues that syllable men's names On sands and shores and desert wildernesses.

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