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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.
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.
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.
Concerning perfect blessed ness which consists in a vision of
God.
[Lat., Circa beatitudinem perfectam, quae in Dei read more
Concerning perfect blessed ness which consists in a vision of
God.
[Lat., Circa beatitudinem perfectam, quae in Dei visione
consistit.]
And like a passing thought, she fled
In light away.
And like a passing thought, she fled
In light away.
Gorgons, and Hydras, and Chimaeras dire.
Gorgons, and Hydras, and Chimaeras dire.
Where there is no vision, the people perish: but he that keepeth
the law, happy is he.
Where there is no vision, the people perish: but he that keepeth
the law, happy is he.
So little distant dangers seem:
So we mistake the future's face,
Ey'd thro' Hope's deluding glass;
read more
So little distant dangers seem:
So we mistake the future's face,
Ey'd thro' Hope's deluding glass;
As yon summits soft and fair,
Clad in colours of the air,
Which to those who journey near,
Barren, brown, and rough appear.
I wonder if ever a song was sung but the singer's heart sang
sweeter!
I wonder if ever read more
I wonder if ever a song was sung but the singer's heart sang
sweeter!
I wonder if ever a rhyme was rung but the thought surpassed the
meter!
I wonder if ever a sculptor wrought till the cold stone echoed
his ardent thought!
Or, if ever a painter with light and shade the dream of his
inmost heart portrayed!