Paradise Lost : Book VIII. (John Milton Poems)
The Angel ended, and in Adam's earSo charming left his voice, that he a whileThought him still speaking, still stood ...
The Angel ended, and in Adam's earSo charming left his voice, that he a whileThought him still speaking, still stood ...
Containing the Marks and Characters of the Believer in Christ; together with some further privileges and grounds of comfort to ...
THE ARGUMENTThe Knight and squire's prodigious FlightTo quit th' inchanted Bow'r by Night.He plods to turn his amorous SuitT' a ...
Stant littore Puppies!-- Virgil.It was a litter, a litter of five,Four are drown'd and one left alive,He was thought worthy ...
From heaven, soul--like, to earth. It is sundown. MarkThe heart's state, empty and collapsed, the world'sVain pleasures leave us in, ...
Genius of musings, who, the midnight hourWasting in woods or haunted forests wild,Dost watch Orion in his arctic tower,Thy dark ...
A milk-white Hind, immortal and unchanged,Fed on the lawns, and in the forest ranged;Without unspotted, innocent within,She feared no danger, ...
Meanwhile the new-baptized, who yet remainedAt Jordan with the Baptist, and had seenHim whom they heard so late expressly calledJesus ...
TANSILLO, CICADA.TANS. The enthusiasms most suitable to be first brought forward andconsidered are those that I now place before you ...
Look where we worship. We all live in the city.The city forms- often physically, but inevitablypsychically- a circle. A Game. ...
I.1EVEN as water to him who thirsts wayfaring, dust-dry and burning,After sore heat and long stumbling in courses with never ...
HERMANN.THEN when into the room the well-built son made his entry,Straightway with piercing glances the minister eyed him intently,And with ...
It is a summer evening, calm and fair,A warm, yet freshening glow is in the air;Along its bank, the cool ...
THE COSMOPOLITE.BUT the Three, as before, were still sitting and talking together,With the landlord, the worthy divine, and also the ...
Rejoice in God, O ye Tongues; give the glory to the Lord, and the Lamb.Nations, and languages, and every Creature, ...
A certain yaksha who had been negligent in the execution of his own duties,on account of a curse from his ...
The slender young woman who is there would be the premier creation by theCreator in the sphere of women, with ...
Stop, oh my friends, let us pause to weep over the remembrance of my beloved.Here was her abode on the ...
of ice. Deceptively reserved and flat,it lies "in grandeur and in mass"beneath a sea of shifting snow-dunes;dots of cyclamen-red and ...
An address to Malvina, the daughter of Toscar. The poet relates the arrival of Cathlin in Selma, to solicit aid ...
This poem. is valuable on account of the light it throws on the antiquity of Ossian's compositions. The Caracul mentioned ...
Burgum, I thank thee, thou hast let me seeThat Bristol has impress'd her stamp on thee,Thy generous spirit emulates the ...
Ye ancient Maids, who ne'er must proveThe early joys of youth and love,Whose names grim Fate (to whom 'twas given,When ...
HERMANN AND DOROTHEA.So tow'rd the sun, now fast sinking to rest, the two walk'd together,Whilst he veil'd himself deep in ...
In vain, dear Madam, yes in vain you strive; Alas! to make your luckless Mira thrive, For Tycho and Copernicus agree, No golden Planet bent its Rays on me. 'Tis twenty Winters, if it is no more; To speak the Truth it may be Twenty four. As many Springs their 'pointed Space have run, Since Mira's Eyes first open'd on the Sun. 'Twas when the Flocks on slabby Hillocks lie, And the cold Fishes rule the wat'ry Sky: But tho these Eyes the learned Page explore, And turn the pond'rous Volumes o'er and o'er, I find no Comfort from their Systems flow, But am dejected more as more I know. Hope shines a while, but like a Vapour flies, (The Fate of all the Curious and the Wise) For, Ah! cold Saturn triumph'd on that Day, And frowning Sol deny'd his golden Ray. You see I'm learned, and I shew't the more, That none may wonder when they find me poor. Yet Mira dreams, as slumbring Poets may, And rolls in Treasures till the breaking Day: While Books and Pictures in bright Order rise, And painted Parlours swim before her Eyes: Till the shrill Clock impertinently rings, And the soft Visions move their shining Wings: Then Mira wakes,— her Pictures are no more, And through her Fingers slides the vanish'd Ore. Convinc'd too soon, her Eye unwilling falls On the blue Curtains and the dusty Walls: She wakes, alas! to Business and to Woes, To sweep her Kitchen, and to mend her Clothes. But see pale Sickness with her languid Eyes, At whose Appearance all Delusion flies: The World recedes, its Vanities decline, Clorinda's Features seem as faint as mine! Gay Robes no more the aching Sight admires, Wit grates the Ear, and melting Music tires: Its wonted pleasures with each sense decay, Books please no more, and paintings fade away, The sliding Joys in misy Vapours end: Yet let me still, Ah! let me grasp a Friend: And when each Joy, when each lov'd Object flies, Be you the last that leaves my closing Eyes. But how will this dismantl'd Soul appear, When stripp'd of all it lately held so dear, Forc'd from its Prison of expiring Clay, Afraid and shiv'ring at the doubtful Way. Yet did these Eyes a dying Parent see, Loos'd from all Cares except a Thought for me, Without a Tear resign her short'ning Breath, And dauntless meet the ling'ring Stroke of Death. Then at th' Almighty's Sentence shall I mourn: "Of Dust thou art, to Dust shalt thou return." Or shall I wish to stretch the Line of Fate, That the dull Years may bear a longer Date, To share the Follies of succeeding Times With more Vexations and with deeper Crimes: Ah no — tho' Heav'n brings near the final Day, For such a Life I will not, dare not pray; But let the Tear for future Mercy flow, And fall resign'd beneath the mighty Blow. Nor I alone — for through the spacious Ball, With me will Numbers of all Ages fall: And the same Day that Mira yields her Breath, Thousands may enter through the Gates of Death. (Mary Leapor)
WHEN evening's pale light had retired from the plain,And night had the valley o'erspread;When the dew was converted to big ...
There was once a town, the inhabitants of which were so passionately fondof poetry,that if some weeks passed by without ...
William de la Pole, Duke of Suffolk: beheaded 1450John Tiptoft, Earl of Worcester: beheaded 1470Anthony Woodville, Earl Rivers: beheaded 14831Processionals ...
It is stuffy in the steerage where the second-classers sleep,For there's near a hundred for'ard, and they're stowed away like ...
Who, if I cried out, would hear me among the angels'hierarchies? and even if one of them suddenlypressed me against ...
© 2020 Inspirational Stories