A Treatise on Versification

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F. & J. Rivington, 1852 - 169 pages
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Page 50 - Before all temples the upright heart and pure, Instruct me, for Thou know'st; Thou from the first Wast present, and, with mighty wings outspread, Dove-like sat'st brooding on the vast abyss, And mad'st it pregnant: what in me is dark Illumine, what is low raise and support; That to the height of this great argument I may assert eternal Providence, And justify the ways of God to men.
Page 168 - SACRED ALLEGORIES. The Shadow of the Cross —The Distant Hills— The Old Man's Home — The King's Messengers. By the Rev. WILLIAM ADAMS, MA, late Fellow of Merton College, Oxford.
Page 88 - That, changed through all, and yet in all the same; Great in the earth, as in the ethereal frame; Warms in the sun, refreshes in the breeze, Glows in the stars, and blossoms in the trees; Lives through all life, extends through all extent; Spreads undivided, operates unspent!
Page 94 - GREAT God, what do I see and hear ! The end of things created ! The Judge of mankind doth appear On clouds of glory seated ! The trumpet sounds ! the graves restore The dead which they contained before! Prepare, my soul, to meet him.
Page 105 - The intricate wards, and every bolt and bar Of massy iron or solid rock with ease Unfastens : on a sudden open fly With impetuous recoil and jarring sound The infernal doors, and on their hinges grate Harsh thunder, that the lowest bottom shook Of Erebus.
Page 152 - O heavenly muse, that not with fading bays Deckest thy brow by th' Heliconian spring, But sittest, crown'd with stars' immortal rays, In heaven, where legions of bright angels sing, Inspire life in my wit, my thoughts upraise, >.~ My verse ennoble, and forgive the thing, If fictions light I mix with truth divine, • And fill these lines with others
Page 105 - Lycidas? For neither were ye playing on the steep Where your old bards, the famous Druids, lie, Nor on the shaggy top of Mona high, Nor yet where Deva spreads her wizard stream. Ay me! I fondly dream — Had ye been there...
Page 149 - The sire and sons, and soon, it seem'd, were rent With sharpest fangs, their sides. Before the trace Of dawn, I woke, and heard my sons lament, (For they were with me), mourning in their sleep, And craving bread. Right cruel is thy bent, If, hearing this, no horror o'er thee creep ; If, guessing what I now began to dread, Thou weep'st not, wherefore art thou wont to weep ? Now were they all awake. The hour, when bread Was wont to be bestow'd, had now drawn near, And dismal doubts, in each, his dream...
Page 80 - YE boundless realms of joy, Exalt your Maker's fame ; His praise your song employ Above the starry frame: Your voices raise, Ye Cherubim And Seraphim, To sing his praise.
Page 104 - Chiama gli abitator dell' ombre eterne II rauco suon della tartarea tromba : Treman le spaziose atre caverne , E l...

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