The Course of Time: A Poem

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C. Wells, 1833 - 328 pages
 

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Page 158 - With many tears, and closed without a cloud. They set as sets the morning star, which goes Not down behind the darkened west, nor hides Obscured among the tempests of the sky, But melts away into the light of heaven.
Page 128 - To catch his eye ; and stretched, and swelled themselves To bursting nigh, to utter bulky words Of admiration vast : and many too, Many that aimed to imitate his flight, With weaker wing, unearthly fluttering made, And gave abundant sport to after days.
Page 127 - ... blood, And now dissolved the heart in tenderness ; Yet would not tremble, would not weep himself ; But back into his soul retired, alone, Dark, sullen, proud, gazing contemptuously On hearts and passions prostrate at his feet. So Ocean, from the plains his waves had late To desolation swept, retired in pride, Exulting in the glory of his might, And seemed to mock the ruin he had wrought. As some fierce comet of tremendous size, To which the stars did reverence as it passed...
Page 144 - Friends in my mirth, friends in my misery too ; Friends given by God in mercy and in love •, My counsellors, my comforters, and...
Page 125 - What sage to hear, he heard ; what scenes to see, He saw. And first in rambling school-boy days, Britannia's mountain-walks, and heath-girt lakes, And story-telling glens, and founts, and brooks, And maids, as dew-drops pure and fair, his soul With grandeur filled, and melody, and love. Then travel came, and took him where he wished. He cities saw, and courts, and princely pomp ; And mused alone on ancient...
Page 42 - Most wondrous book ! bright candle of the Lord ! Star of eternity ! the only star By which the bark of man could navigate The sea of life, and gain the coast of bliss Securely ; only star which rose on Time, And, on its dark and troubled billows, still, As generation, drifting swiftly by, Succeeded generation, threw a ray Of heaven's own light, and to the hills of God, The everlasting hills, pointed the sinner's eye...
Page 114 - A Novel was a book Three-volumed, and once read, and oft crammed full Of poisonous error, blackening every page, And, oftener still, of trifling, second-hand Remark, and old, diseased, putrid thought, And, miserable incident, at war With nature, with itself and truth at war ; Yet charming still the greedy reader on, Till done, he tried to recollect his thoughts, And nothing found, but dreaming emptiness.
Page 77 - And steeped in widow's tears, if it stood out To prominent display, she talked of much, And roared around it with a thousand tongues. As changed the wind her organ, so she changed Perpetually ; and whom she praised to-day, Vexing his ear with acclamations loud, To-morrow blamed, and hissed him out of sight.
Page 142 - Oh, had her lover seen her thus alone, Thus holy, wrestling thus, and all for him! Nor did he not : for oft-times Providence, With unexpected joy the fervent prayer Of faith surprised.
Page 97 - Selecting from its falling sisters, chase Far from its native grove, to lifeless wastes, And leave it there alone, to be forgotten Eternally— God passed in mercy by—- His praise be ever new ! — and on him breathed And bade...

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