Comus, a Mask

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Bell, 1797 - Всего страниц: 66

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Стр. viii - So dear to Heaven is saintly chastity, that, when a soul is found sincerely so, a thousand. liveried angels lackey her, driving far off each thing of sin and guilt, and, in clear dream and solemn vision, tell her of things that no gross ear can hear...
Стр. 37 - In courts, at feasts, and high solemnities, Where most may wonder at the workmanship. It is for homely features to keep home; They had their name thence: coarse complexions And cheeks of sorry grain will serve to ply The sampler, and to tease the huswife's wool.
Стр. 44 - Mortals, that would follow me, Love Virtue ; she alone is free. She can teach ye how to climb Higher than the sphery chime; Or, if Virtue feeble were, Heaven itself would stoop to her.
Стр. ix - But when lust, By unchaste looks, loose gestures, and foul talk, But most by lewd and lavish act of sin, Lets in defilement to the inward parts, The soul grows clotted by contagion, Imbodies and imbrutes, till she quite lose The divine property of her first being.
Стр. xl - 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 Atlantic stream : And the slope sun his upward beam Shoots against the dusky pole, Pacing toward the other goal Of his chamber in the east.
Стр. i - My best guide now : methought it was the sound Of riot and ill-managed merriment, Such as the jocund flute, or gamesome pipe, Stirs up among the loose unletter'd hinds, When, for their teeming flocks, and granges full, In wanton dance they praise the bounteous Pan, And thank the gods amiss.
Стр. 43 - All amidst the gardens fair Of Hesperus and his daughters three That sing about the golden tree. Along the crisped shades and bowers Revels the spruce and jocund Spring; The Graces and the rosy-bosom'd Hours Thither all their bounties bring...
Стр. 32 - Not that Nepenthes which the wife of Thone In Egypt gave to Jove-born Helena Is of such power to stir up joy as this, To life so friendly, or so cool to thirst.
Стр. 15 - Lungs ! — my only care is, Where to get stuff enough now, to project on ; This town will not half serve me. Face. No, sir ! buy The covering off o
Стр. ix - How charming is divine Philosophy! Not harsh and crabbed, as dull fools suppose, But musical as is Apollo's lute, And a perpetual feast of nectared sweets, Where no crude surfeit reigns.

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