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Seite 247 - Who take the ruffian billows by the top, Curling their monstrous heads, and hanging them With deafning clamours in the slippery clouds, That, with the hurly," death itself awakes ? Can'st thou, O partial sleep ! give thy repose To the wet sea-boy in an hour so rude ; And in the calmest and most stillest night, With all appliances and means to boot, Deny it to a king? Then, happy low, lie down ! Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.
Seite 371 - But o'er the twilight groves and dusky caves, Long-sounding aisles and intermingled graves, Black Melancholy sits, and round her throws A death-like silence, and a dread repose : Her gloomy presence saddens all the scene, Shades every flower, and darkens every green ; Deepens the murmur of the falling floods, And breathes a browner horror on the woods.
Seite 247 - Wilt thou upon the high and giddy mast, Seal up the ship-boy's eyes, and rock his brains In cradle of the rude imperious surge. And in the visitation of the winds, Who take the ruffian billows by the top, Curling their monstrous heads, and hanging them With deaf ning clamours in the slippery clouds...
Seite 118 - Thames ! the most loved of all the Ocean's sons, By his old sire, to his embraces runs, Hasting to pay his tribute to the sea, Like mortal life to meet eternity ; Though with those streams he no resemblance hold, Whose foam is amber, and their gravel gold * : His genuine and less guilty wealth t...
Seite 363 - That part of the island we had landed on was a narrow ridge, not above musket-shot across, bounded on one side by the sea, and on the other by a creek, extending upwards of a mile inland, and nearly communicating with the sea at its head.
Seite 118 - O'er which he kindly spreads his spacious wing And hatches plenty for th' ensuing spring. Nor then destroys it with too fond a stay, Like mothers which their infants overlay. Nor with a sudden and impetuous wave, Like profuse kings, resumes the wealth he gave. No unexpected inundations spoil...
Seite 118 - Brings home to us, and makes both Indies ours; Finds wealth where 'tis, bestows it where it wants, Cities in deserts, woods in cities plants; So that to us no thing, no place is strange...
Seite 247 - O gentle sleep ! Nature's soft nurse, how have I frighted thee, That thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down, And steep my senses in forgetfulness?
Seite 235 - ... with gold and jewels and pearls, holding in her hand a golden cup full of abominations and the impurities of her fornication; 5and on her forehead was written a name of mystery: "Babylon the great, mother of harlots and of earth's abominations." 6And I saw the woman, drunk with the blood of the saints and the blood of the martyrs of Jesus.