Bell's British Theatre: Comus, by J. Milton. ... Love in a village, by I. Bickerstaff[e

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第45页 - Hence, loathed Melancholy, Of Cerberus and blackest Midnight born In Stygian cave forlorn 'Mongst horrid shapes, and shrieks, and sights unholy ! Find out some uncouth cell, Where brooding Darkness spreads his jealous wings, And the night-raven sings ; There, under ebon shades and low-browed rocks, As ragged as thy locks, In dark Cimmerian desert ever dwell.
第32页 - So dear to Heaven is saintly chastity, that, when a soul is found sincerely so, a thousand. liveried angels lackey her, driving far off each thing of sin and guilt, and, in clear dream and solemn vision, tell her of things that no gross ear can hear...
第32页 - 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.
第29页 - Virtue could see to do what virtue would By her own radiant light, though sun and moon Were in the flat sea sunk. And Wisdom's self Oft seeks to sweet retired solitude ; Where, with her best nurse, Contemplation, She plumes her feathers, and lets grow her wings, That in the various bustle of resort Were all too ruffled, and sometimes impair'd. He that has light within his own clear breast, May sit i...
第64页 - And from thence can soar as soon To the corners of the moon. Mortals, that would follow me, Love Virtue ; she alone is free. She can teach ye how to climb Higher than the sphery chime; Or, if Virtue feeble were, Heaven itself would stoop to her.
第30页 - That musing meditation most affects The pensive secrecy of desert cell, Far from the cheerful haunt of men and herds, And sits as safe as in a senate-house ; For who would rob a hermit of his weeds, His few books, or his beads, or maple dish...
第54页 - Wherefore did Nature pour her bounties forth With such a full and unwithdrawing hand, Covering the earth with odours, fruits and flocks, Thronging the seas with spawn innumerable, But all to please, and sate the curious taste...
第46页 - Haste thee, nymph, and bring with thee Jest, and youthful Jollity, Quips, and cranks,* and wanton* wiles, Nods, and becks, and wreathed smiles, Such as hang on Hebe's cheek, And love to live in dimple sleek; Sport that wrinkled Care derides, And Laughter holding both his sides.
第21页 - My best guide now : methought it was the sound Of riot and ill-managed merriment, Such as the jocund flute, or gamesome pipe, Stirs up among the loose unletter'd hinds, When, for their teeming flocks, and granges full, In wanton dance they praise the bounteous Pan, And thank the gods amiss.
第42页 - I was all ear, And took in strains that might create a soul Under the ribs of Death...

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