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A Hymn
Eternal power of earth and air,Unseen, yet seen in all around,Remote, but dwelling everywhere,Though silent, heard in every sound.If e'er thine ear in mercy bentWhen wretched mortals cried to thee,And if indeed thy Son was sentTo save lost sinners such as me.Then hear me now, while kneeling here;I lift to thee my heart and eyeAnd all my soul ascends in prayer;O give me, give me Faith I cry.Without some glimmering in my heart,I could not raise this fervent prayer;But O a stronger light impart,And in thy mercy fix it there!While Faith is with me I am blest;It turns my darkest night to day;But while I clasp it to my breastI often feel it slide away.Then cold and dark my spirit sinks,To se...
Anne Bronte
Odes Of Anacreon - Ode LXVII.
Rich in bliss, I proudly scornThe wealth of Amalthea's horn;Nor should I ask to call the throneOf the Tartessian prince my own;[1]To totter through his train of years,The victim of declining fears.One little hour of joy to meIs worth a dull eternity!
Thomas Moore
The Hermit
Now the quietude of earthNestles deep my heart within;Friendships new and strange have birthSince I left the city's din.Here the tempest stays its guile,Like a big kind brother plays,Romps and pauses here awhileFrom its immemorial ways.Now the silver light of dawnSlipping through the leaves that fleckMy one window, hurries on,Throws its arms around my neck.Darkness to my doorway hies,Lays her chin upon the roof,And her burning seraph eyesNow no longer keep aloof.Here the ancient mysteryHolds its hands out day by day,Takes a chair and croons with meBy my cabin built of clay.When the dusky shadow flits,By the chimney nook I seeWhere the old enchanter sits,Smiles, and waves, a...
George William Russell
A Charm Invests A Face
A charm invests a faceImperfectly beheld, --The lady dare not lift her veilFor fear it be dispelled.But peers beyond her mesh,And wishes, and denies, --Lest interview annul a wantThat image satisfies.
Emily Elizabeth Dickinson
Sonnet LXXV.
Io son dell' aspectar omai sì vinto.HAVING ONCE SURRENDERED HIMSELF, HE IS COMPELLED EVER TO ENDURE THE PANGS OF LOVE. Weary with expectation's endless round,And overcome in this long war of sighs,I hold desires in hate and hopes despise,And every tie wherewith my breast is bound;But the bright face which in my heart profoundIs stamp'd, and seen where'er I turn mine eyes,Compels me where, against my will, ariseThe same sharp pains that first my ruin crown'd.Then was my error when the old way quiteOf liberty was bann'd and barr'd to me:He follows ill who pleases but his sight:To its own harm my soul ran wild and free,Now doom'd at others' will to wait and wend;Because that once it ventured to offend.MACGREGOR.
Francesco Petrarca