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This elegant rose, had I shaken it less,
Might have bloomed with its owner awhile; And the tear that is wiped with a little address, May be followed, perhaps, by a smile.
The current that with gentle murmur glides,
Thou know'st, being stopped, impatiently doth rage;
But, when his fair course is not hindered,
He makes sweet music with the enameled stones,
Giving a gentle kiss to every sedge
He overtaketh in his pilgrimage;
And so, by many winding nooks, he strays
And make a pastime of each weary step!
Now came still evening on; and twilight grey
XIII. SATAN'S OVERTHROW.
Nine times the space that measures day and night To mortal men, he with his horrid crew
Lay vanquished, rolling in the fiery gulf,
Torments him. Round he throws his baleful eyes,
The dismal situation waste and wild:
A dungeon horrible on all sides round
As one great furnace flamed; yet from those flames No light, but rather darkness visible,
Served only to discover sights of woe.
The quality of mercy is not strained;
Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings.
And earthly power doth then show likest God's,
When mercy seasons justice. Think of this,
Should see salvation. We do pray for mercy;
XV. SATAN'S ADDRESS TO BEELZEBUB.
If thou beest he, but O, how fallen! how changed From him who, in the happy realms of light, Clothed with transcendent brightness, did* outshine Myriads though bright! If he whom mutual league, United thoughts and counsels, equal hope
And hazard in the glorious enterprise,
Joined with me once; now misery hath joined
In equal ruin. Into what pit thou seest,
From what height fallen, so much the stronger proved
Nor what the potent victor, in his rage,
Though changed in outward lustre—that fixed mind,
That durst dislike his reign, and, me preferring,
* Didst, the usual reading, is ungrammatical.
XVI. HAMLET'S SOLILOQUY ON DEATH.
To be or not to be!-that is the question.
To sleep?-perchance to dream!-Ay! there's the rub!
Must give us pause. There's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life!
XVII. MESSIAH'S TRIUMPH OVER THE REBEL ANGELS.
Sole victor, from the expulsion of His foes
Messiah His triumphal chariot turned.
To meet Him, all His saints, who silent stood,
Eye-witnesses of His almighty acts,
With jubilee advanced; and as they went,
XVIII. CATO's SOLILOQUY ON THE IMMORTALITY OF THE
It must be so! - Plato, thou reasonest well!
Or whence this secret dread and inward horror
Of falling into nought?-Why shrinks the soul
"Tis Heaven itself that points out an hereafter,
Eternity! thou pleasing—dreadful thought!
Through what new scenes and changes must we pass !
XIX. ELEGY WRITTEN IN A COUNTRY CHURCHYARD.
The curfew tolls the knell of parting day;
The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea; The ploughman homeward plods his weary way, And leaves the world to darkness and to me!
Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight,
Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight,
Save that, from yonder ivy-mantled tower,
The moping owl does to the moon complain Of such as, wandering near her secret bower, Molest her ancient solitary reign.