The Poetical Works: Edwin the Fair. Isaac Comnenus

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Chapman and Hall, 1864
 

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40 psl. - Through the past decade, to rebate the edge Of early sensibility. The sun Rides high, and on the thoroughfares of life I find myself a man in middle age, Busy and hard to please. The sun shall soon Dip westerly, — but oh ! how little like Are life's two twilights ! Would the last were first And the first last ! that so we might be soothed Upon the thoroughfares of busy life Beneath the noon-day sun, with hope of joy Fresh as the morn, — with hope of breaking lights, Illuminated mists and spangled...
65 psl. - Cherish'd by His smile My heart is glad within me, and to Him Shall testify in works a strenuous joy. — Methinks that I could be myself that rock Whereon the church is founded, — wind and flood Beating against me, boisterous in vain. I thank you, Gracious Powers ! Supernal Host ! I thank you that on me, though young in years, Ye put the glorious charge to try with fire, To winnow and to purge. I hear...
62 psl. - The wind, when first he rose and went abroad Through the waste region, felt himself at fault, Wanting a voice ; and suddenly to earth Descended with a wafture and a swoop, Where, wandering volatile from kind to kind, He wooed the several trees to give him one. First he besought the ash; the voice she lent Fitfully with a free and lashing change Flung here and there its sad uncertainties: The aspen next ; a fluttered frivolous twitter Was her sole tribute : from the willow came, So long as dainty...
25 psl. - The stories in the tapestry, when appeared The Princess, with that merry child Prince Guy. He loves me well, and made her stop and sit, And sate upon her knee, and it so chanced That in his various chatter he denied That I could hold his hand within...
77 psl. - Wise is one of these; and he will describe Athulf with a warmth and vigour which it is impossible to emulate, although it must be admitted to be not inconsiderably abstruse — an infirmity to which the good Wulfstan is greatly addicted. " Much mirth he hath, and yet less mirth than fancy. His is that nature of humanity Which both ways doth redound, rejoicing now With soarings of the soul, anon brought low: For such the law that rules the larger spirits. This soul of man...
62 psl. - So long as dainty summer dress'd her out, A whispering sweetness, but her winter note Was hissing, dry, and reedy : lastly the pine Did he solicit, and from her he drew A voice so constant, soft, and lowly deep, That there he rested, welcoming in her A mild memorial of the ocean- cave Where he was born.
102 psl. - The soften'd soul, of mild voluptuous ease And tender sports that chased the kindling hours In odorous gardens or on terraces To music of the fountains and the birds, Or else in skirting groves by sunshine smitten Or warm winds kiss'd, whilst we from shine to shade Roved unregarded.
30 psl. - But from my griefs and me this counsel take : Expend the passion of thy heart in youth ; Fight thy love-battles whilst thy heart is strong, And wounds heal kindlily. An April frost Is sharp, but kills not ; sad October's storm Strikes when the juices and the vital sap Are ebbing from the leaf. No more...
65 psl. - A radiance and a resonance from heaven Surrounds me, and my soul is breaking forth In strength, as did the new-created sun When earth beheld it first on the fourth day. God spake not then more plainly to that orb Than to my spirit now.
10 psl. - Where's Satan? His presence, life and kingdom? Not the air Nor bowels of the earth, nor central fires His habitat exhibits ; it is here, Here in the heart of Man. And if from hence I cast him with discomfiture, that truth Is verily of the vulgar sense conceived, By utterance symbolic, when they deem That, met in bodily oppugnancy, I tweak him by the snout. A fair belief Wherein the fleshy and the palpable type Doth of pure truth substantiate the essence. Enough. Come down. The screech-owl from afar...

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