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Hence, dear delusion, sweet enchantment hence!
- Horace Smith and James Smith,
Hence, dear delusion, sweet enchantment hence!
- Horace Smith and James Smith,
Gorgons, and Hydras, and Chimaeras dire.
Gorgons, and Hydras, and Chimaeras dire.
And like a passing thought, she fled
In light away.
And like a passing thought, she fled
In light away.
O visions ill foreseen! Better had I
Liv'd ignorant of future, so had borne
My part of read more
O visions ill foreseen! Better had I
Liv'd ignorant of future, so had borne
My part of evil only.
It is a dream, sweet child! a waking dream,
A blissful certainty, a vision bright,
Of that read more
It is a dream, sweet child! a waking dream,
A blissful certainty, a vision bright,
Of that rare happiness, which even on earth
Heaven gives to those it loves.
An angel stood and met my gaze,
Through the low doorway of my tent;
The tent is read more
An angel stood and met my gaze,
Through the low doorway of my tent;
The tent is struck, the vision stays;
I only know she came and went.
Abou Ben Adhem (may his tribe increase!)
Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace,
And read more
Abou Ben Adhem (may his tribe increase!)
Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace,
And say, within the moonlight in his room,
Making it rich, and like a lily in bloom,
An angel, writing in a book of gold;
Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold,
And to the presence in the room he said--
"What writest thou?" The Vision raised its head,
And, with a look made all of sweet accord,
Answered, "The names of those who love the Lord."
My thoughts by night are often filled
With visions false as fair:
For in the past alone, read more
My thoughts by night are often filled
With visions false as fair:
For in the past alone, I build
My castles in the air.
Our revels are now ended. These our actors
As I foretold you, were all spirits and
Are read more
Our revels are now ended. These our actors
As I foretold you, were all spirits and
Are melted into air, into thin air;
And, like the baseless fabric of this vision,
The cloud-capped tow'rs, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
Yea, all of which it inherit, shall dissolve,
And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,
Is rounded with a sleep.