The Rising Faith

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Roberts Bros., 1874 - 386페이지

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74 페이지 - Come away, come away, death, And in sad cypress let me be laid ; Fly away, fly away, breath ; I am slain by a fair cruel maid. My shroud of white, stuck all with yew, O, prepare it ! My part of death, no one so true Did share it. Not a flower, not a flower sweet, On my black coffin let there be strown...
338 페이지 - My substance was not hid from thee, when I was made in secret, and curiously wrought in the lowest parts of the earth.
329 페이지 - I am the daughter of earth and water, And the nursling of the sky; I pass through the pores of the ocean and shores; I change, but I cannot die. For after the rain when with never a stain, The pavilion of heaven is bare, And the winds and sunbeams with their convex gleams, Build up the blue dome of air, I silently laugh at my own cenotaph, And out of the caverns of rain, Like a child from the womb, like a ghost from the tomb, I arise and unbuild it again.
221 페이지 - His nature is too noble for the world : He would not flatter Neptune for his trident, Or Jove for his power to thunder.
345 페이지 - O, it is monstrous ! monstrous ! Methought the billows spoke, and told me of it ; The winds did sing it to me ; and the thunder, That deep and dreadful organ-pipe, pronounced The name of Prosper ; it did bass my trespass. Therefore my son i' the ooze is bedded ; and I'll seek him deeper than e'er plummet sounded, And with him there lie mudded.
268 페이지 - I'll never Be such a gosling to obey instinct, but stand, As if a man were author of himself And knew no other kin.
220 페이지 - Give not that which is holy unto the dogs, neither cast ye your pearls before swine, lest they trample them under their feet, and turn again and rend you.
235 페이지 - Jesus' sake, forbeare To dig the dust enclosed here: Blessed be the man that spares these stones, And curst be he that moves my bones.
262 페이지 - Thou marshall'st me the way that I was going; And such an instrument I was to use. Mine eyes are made the fools o' the other senses, Or else worth all the rest; I see thee still, And on thy blade and dudgeon gouts of blood, Which was not so before.
288 페이지 - Merciful heaven! What, man! ne'er pull your hat upon your brows; Give sorrow words: the grief that does not speak Whispers the o'erfraught heart, and bids it break.

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