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Updated: June 4, 2025


Whether it court the applause of listening nations, And toil, with earnest energy, for fame, Or seek with nobler hopes those elevations, Whence from its God with spotless robes it came: All help to lead it on; to Truth or Error, Darkness or Light, as its own pathway lies; Here, seeming seraphs, hidden shapes of terror, There, darksome shadows, angels in disguise.

He may alter his system an' stand way up with the angels an' seraphs, an' if words from me could fix it, I'd shorely stack 'em in. I would say further that after consultin' with Billy Burns, who keeps the Red Light, we has, in honor of the dead an' to mark the occasion of his cashin' in, agreed upon a business departure of interest to all. This departure Mister Burns will state.

Early in years, and yet more infantine In figure, she had something of sublime In eyes, which sadly shone, as seraphs' shine: All youth but with an aspect beyond time; Radiant and grave us pitying man's decline; Mournful but mournful of another's crime, She look'd as if she sat by Eden's door, And grieved for those who could return no more.

The second boy, Alfred, about eleven, was delicate, fair, and fragile, like his mother; his sweet countenance, full of tenderness, changed before the audience with a rapid emotion. The youngest son, Michel, was an infant of four years, and with his large blue eyes and long golden hair, might have figured as one of the seraphs of Murillo.

I can never make you understand, my dears, how the sight of this helpless waif appearing thus unaccountably in the heart of the great forest mellowed and softened me. 'Twas a little maid, not above three or four years old, and with a face that Master Raphael might have taken as a pattern for one of his seraphs. "What know you of the king, little one?" I asked. "Gran'dad told me," she lisped.

Peter is stony as his name; the gate, Excepting to invited guests, won't stir. 'Tis long since he and I were intimate; We differed; but to bygones why refer? Still, there are windows; if a peep through these Would serve your turn, we'll start whene'er you please...." So Faust and his companion entered, by The window, the abodes where seraphs dwell.

"I think, my love, that, if we did not go, we should give some excuse for scandal-mongers to gossip. Yet, should you not like it, you know that there is no need for us to go. Do not think of me, for I prefer our pleasant chat in this room to the heavenly concert of the seraphs." "I am passionately fond of music, darling, but I cannot help trembling at the idea of going out."

'And oh, your dear blue eyes, that heavenward glance With kindred beauty, banished humbleness, Past weeping for mortality's distress Yet from your soul a tear hangs there in trance. And fills, but does not fall; Softly I hear it call At heaven's gate, till Sister Seraphs press To look on you their old love from the skies: Those are the eyes of Seraphs bright on your blue eyes! "Beautiful!

We could not weep upon the day When her pure spirit passed away; We thought we read the mystery Which in her life there seemed to be That she was not our own, but lent To us little while, and sent An angel child, what others preach Of heavenly purity, to teach, In ways more eloquent than speech And chiefly by that raptured eye Which seemed to look beyond the sky, And that abstraction, listening To hear the choir of seraphs sing.

Before we fairly had passed it, and while the farandole was dying out slowly, there crashed down upon us a thunderous outburst of song: as though an exceptionally large-lunged seraph were afloat immediately above us in the open regions of the air. Yet the song was of a gayer sort than seraphs, presumably, are wont to sing; and its method, distinctly, was that of the modern operatic stage.

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