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Page 240 - ARETHUSA arose From her couch of snows In the Acroceraunian mountains: From cloud and from crag. With many a jag. Shepherding her bright fountains. She leapt down the rocks, With her rainbow locks Streaming among the streams; — Her steps paved with green The downward ravine Which slopes to the western gleams; And gliding and springing She went, ever singing, In murmurs as. soft as sleep : The earth seemed to love her, And heaven smiled above her, As she lingered towards the deep.
Page 215 - The Oracles are dumb ; No voice or hideous hum Runs through the arched roof in words deceiving. Apollo from his shrine Can no more divine, With hollow shriek the steep of Delphos leaving : No nightly trance or breathed spell Inspires the pale-eyed priest from the prophetic cell.
Page 249 - Ocean's child, and then his queen; Now is come a darker day," And thou soon must be his prey. If the power that raised thee here Hallow so thy watery bier. A less drear ruin then than now...
Page 263 - Winter yelling through the troublous air, Affrights thy shrinking train, And rudely rends thy robes : So long, regardful of thy quiet rule, Shall Fancy, Friendship, Science, smiling Peace, Thy gentlest influence own, And love thy favourite name ! ODE TO PEACE.
Page 209 - HAPPY the man whose wish and care A few paternal acres bound, Content to breathe his native air, In his own ground.
Page 241 - Under the bowers Where the Ocean Powers Sit on their pearled thrones ; Through the coral woods Of the weltering floods, Over heaps of unvalued stones ; Through the dim beams Which amid the streams Weave a network of coloured light...
Page 212 - Like the swell of some sweet tune, ' Morning rises into noon, May glides onward into June.
Page 227 - Comus. The star that bids the shepherd fold, Now the top of heaven doth hold ; And the gilded car of day His glowing axle doth allay In the steep Atlantick stream ; And the slope sun his upward beam Shoots against the dusky pole, Pacing toward the other goal Of his chamber in the East, Meanwhile welcome Joy, and Feast, Midnight Shout, and Revelry, Tipsy Dance, and Jollity.
Page 213 - Our lives are rivers, gliding free To that unfathomed, boundless sea, The silent grave ! Thither all earthly pomp and boast Roll, to be swallowed up and lost In one dark wave. Thither the mighty torrents stray, Thither the brook pursues its way, And tinkling rill. There all are equal. Side by side The poor man and the son of pride Lie calm and still.
Page 216 - So when the sun in bed, Curtained with cloudy red, Pillows his chin upon an orient wave...

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