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And downward slopes a beam of light divine, The perfumed clouds are cleft: he looks up wond'ring Looks up what does he there before the shrine? He could not give himself to God, for he is mine, is mine! O day and night! O day and night! I go forth trembling, He did not meet my eyes, he never saw my face. My bosom swells with joy and jealousy resembling A war of good and evil waged in a holy place.
"I saw the moon behind the hills retiring, And thought the while 'Oh! would I were but there! Then could my eye examine, without tiring, That radiant thing, how large, how round, how fair. "Wond'ring, I saw the Sun of God depart, To slumber in the golden lap of Even; And, from the East again in beauty dart, To bathe in crimson all the field of heaven.
What rose so strange the wond'ring waters flushed? Heaven's hand, oh guests; heaven's hand may here be known; The spring's coy nymph has seen her God and blushed. "Mira cano, Sol occubuit, nox nulla sequutaest." Camden's Remains , p. 351. 'When Mr. Hume began to be known in the world as a philosopher, Mr. White, a decent, rich merchant of London, said to him: "I am surprised, Mr.
As when a child on some long winter's night Affrighted clinging to its Grandam's knees With eager wond'ring and perturb'd delight Listens strange tales of fearful dark decrees Mutter'd to wretch by necromantic spell; Or of those hags, who at the witching time Of murky midnight ride the air sublime, And mingle foul embrace with fiends of Hell: Cold Horror drinks its blood!
"At Edmonton his loving wife From the balcony spied Her tender husband, wond'ring much To see how he did ride. "'Stop, stop, John Gilpin! Here's the house! They all at once did cry; 'The dinner waits, and we are tired Said Gilpin 'So am I! "Six gentlemen upon the road Thus seeing Gilpin fly, With post-boy scamp'ring in the rear, They raised the hue and cry:
The annexed sonnet, by Coleridge, is defective from this cause: "As when a child, on some long winter's night, Affrighted, clinging to its grandam's knees, With eager wond'ring and perturb'd delight Listens strange tales of fearful dark decrees, Mutter'd to wretch by necromantic spell; Or of those hags who at the witching time Of murky midnight, ride the air sublime, And mingle foul embrace with fiends of hell; Cold horror drinks its blood!
He wished well by his neighbors, did well by himself, And hoped for salvation, and struggled for pelf; And easy Tomorrow still promised to pay The still swelling debts of his bankrupt Today, Till, bestriding the deep sudden chasm that is fixed The sunshiny world and the shadowy betwixt, His Today with a pale wond'ring face stood alone, And over the border Tomorrow had flown.
"Dear, dear, that's a pity, for it's a ter'ble thing, and an awful end for the young lady. Jem came home all of a tremble like last night with the ghastly sight of her corpse and I had to give him a drop of spirits to help him to sleep. We was a talkin' about it in bed, and wond'ring who could 'ave done it. Nobody hereabouts, for I'm sure there's nobody in the village would hurt a fellow creature.
O, speak again, bright Angel! for thou art As glorious to this night, being o'er my head, As is a winged messenger of heaven Unto the white-upturned wond'ring eyes Of mortals that fall back to gaze on him, When he bestrides the lazy-pacing clouds, And sails upon the bosom of the air
You'd mope and grieve for me, and you'd be wond'ring why I'd deserted you after all these years. And you'd get to pining and maybe go sick. And the feller that bought you wouldn't understand. And most likely he'd whale you for not being more chipper-like. And you haven't ever been hit.
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