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Página 61 - These are the generations of the heavens and of the earth when they were created, in the day that the LORD God made the earth and the heavens...
Página 285 - Alas ! I have nor hope nor health, Nor peace within nor calm around ; Nor that content, surpassing wealth, The sage in meditation found, And walked with inward glory crowned; Nor fame nor power nor love nor leisure. Others I see whom these surround — Smiling they live, and call life pleasure; — To me that cup has been dealt in another measure.
Página 289 - Liquid Peneus was flowing, And all dark Tempe lay In Pelion's shadow, outgrowing The light of the dying day, Speeded by my sweet pipings.
Página 285 - I see the Deep's untrampled floor With green and purple seaweeds strown; I see the waves upon the shore, Like light dissolved in star-showers, thrown : I sit upon the sands alone, The lightning of the noontide ocean Is flashing round me, and a tone Arises from its measured motion, How sweet ! did any heart now share in my emotion.
Página 278 - A pard-like Spirit beautiful and swift — A love in desolation masked — a power Girt round with weakness ; it can scarce uplift The weight of the superincumbent hour. It is a dying lamp, a falling shower, A breaking billow ; — even whilst we speak Is it not broken ? On the withering flower The killing sun smiles brightly : on a cheek The life can burn in blood even while the heart may break.
Página 289 - And the nymphs of the woods and waves, To the edge of the moist river-lawns And the brink of the dewy caves, And all that did then attend and follow, Were silent with love, as you now, Apollo, With envy of my sweet pipings. I sang of the dancing stars, I sang of the daedal Earth, And of Heaven, and the Giant Wars, And Love, and Death, and Birth...
Página 203 - To the mind's purified beings; 'twas the ground Where early Love his Psyche's zone unbound, And hallowed it with loveliness: 'tis lone, And wonderful, and deep, and hath a sound, And sense, and sight of sweetness; here the Rhone Hath spread himself a couch, the Alps have rear'da throne.
Página 278 - Midst others of less note, came one frail Form, A phantom among men; companionless As the last cloud of an expiring storm Whose thunder is its knell; he, as I guess, Had gazed on Nature's naked loveliness, Actaeon-like, and now he fled astray With feeble steps o'er the world's wilderness, And his own thoughts, along that rugged way, Pursued, like raging hounds, their father and their prey.
Página 285 - Yet now despair itself is mild, Even as the winds and waters are ; I could lie down like a tired child, And weep away the life of care Which I have borne and yet must bear, Till death, like sleep, might steal on me, And I might feel in the warm air My cheek grow cold, and hear the sea Breathe o'er my dying brain its last monotony.
Página 289 - I pursued a maiden and clasped a reed. Gods and men, we are all deluded thus! It breaks in our bosom and then we bleed: All wept, as I think both ye now would, If envy or age had not frozen your blood, At the sorrow of my sweet pipings.

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