The Age of Fable; Or, Beauties of Mythology

Forsideomslag
J.E. Tilton & Company, 1872 - 486 sider
 

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Side 178 - Indian mount, or fairy elves, Whose midnight revels, by a forest side, Or fountain, some belated peasant sees, Or dreams he sees, while overhead the moon Sits arbitress, and nearer to the earth Wheels her pale course ; they, on their mirth and dance Intent, with jocund music charm his ear ; At once with joy and fear his heart rebounds.
Side 108 - But peaceful was the night Wherein the Prince of Light His reign of peace upon the earth began...
Side 52 - Where the nibbling flocks do stray; Mountains, on whose barren breast The labouring clouds do often rest; Meadows trim with daisies pied, Shallow brooks, and rivers wide; Towers and battlements it sees Bosomed high in tufted trees, Where perhaps some beauty lies, The cynosure of neighbouring eyes.
Side 248 - Old Law did save, And such as yet once more I trust to have Full sight of her in Heaven without restraint. Came vested all in white, pure as her mind. Her face was...
Side 387 - Ring out, ye crystal spheres ! Once bless our human ears, If ye have power to touch our senses so ; And let your silver chime Move in melodious time ; And let the bass of heaven's deep organ blow ; And with your ninefold harmony Make up full consort to the angelic symphony.
Side 475 - Far from me and from my friends be such frigid philosophy, as may conduct us indifferent and unmoved over any ground which has been dignified by wisdom, bravery, or virtue. That man is little to be envied, whose patriotism would not gain force upon the plain of Marathon, or whose piety would not grow warmer among the ruins of lona.
Side 320 - Which will not leave the myrrh-bush on the height; To hear each other's whisper'd speech; Eating the Lotos day by day, To watch the crisping ripples on the beach, And tender curving lines of creamy spray...
Side 345 - Tis not too late to seek a newer world. Push off, and sitting well in order smite The sounding furrows ; for my purpose holds To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths Of all the western stars, until I die. It may be that the gulfs will wash us down: It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles, And see the great Achilles, whom we knew. Tho' much is taken, much abides; and tho...
Side 402 - In that fair clime, the lonely herdsman, stretched On the soft grass through half a summer's day, With music lulled his indolent repose : And, in some fit of weariness, if he, When his own breath was silent, chanced to hear A distant strain, far sweeter than the sounds Which his poor skill could make, his fancy fetched, Even from the blazing chariot of the sun, A beardless Touth, who touched a golden lute, And filled the illumined groves with ravishment.
Side 144 - Sweet Queen of Parley, Daughter of the Sphere! So may'st thou be translated to the skies, And give resounding grace to all Heaven's harmonies!

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