 | 1902 - Страниц: 874
...cannot reach It," Henry Vaughan writes of that vanished spring: I cannot reach It, and my straining eye Dazzles at It, as at eternity. Were now that Chronicle...each harmless hour, With their content, too, in my power. Quickly would I make my path even, And by mere playing go to Heaven. The little boy in the abstract... | |
 | Henry Vaughan - 1847 - Страниц: 316
...now that Chronicle alive, Thofe white defigns which children drive, And the thoughts of each harmlefs hour, With their content too in my pow'r, Quickly would I make my path even, And by meer playing go to Heaven. Why mould men love A Wolf, more than a Lamb or Dove ? Or choofe hell-fire... | |
 | Henry Vaughan - 1847 - Страниц: 318
...now that Chronicle alive, Thofe white defigns which children drive, And the thoughts of each harmlefs hour, With their content too in my pow'r, Quickly would I make my path even, And by meer playing go to Heaven. Why mould men love A Wolf, more than a Lamb or Dove ? Or choofe hell-fire... | |
 | Rufus Wilmot Griswold - 1849 - Страниц: 578
...backward steps would move ; And when this dust falls to the urn, In that state I came return. CHILDHOOD. I CANNOT reach it ; and my striving eye Dazzles at...of each harmless hour, With their content too in my power, Quickly would I make my path even, And by mere playing go to Heaven. Dear, harmless age ! the... | |
 | William Wordsworth - 1851 - Страниц: 748
...reach it ; and my striving eye Dazles at it, as at eternity. Were now that chronicle alive, Those while Fed on the day of vengeance yet to come. Oh ! rneer playing go to Heaven. * * » » » Dear harmless age ! the short, swift span Where weeping virtue... | |
 | William Wordsworth - 1854 - Страниц: 776
...He came condemned hither, etc., p. 61. CHILD EHOOD. 1 cannot reach it ; and my striving eye Dazlcs at it, as at eternity. Were now that chronicle alive,...my pow'r, Quickly would I make my path even And by raeer playing go to Heaven. ***** Dear harmless age! the short, swifl span Where weeping virtue parts... | |
 | Henry Vaughan - 1856 - Страниц: 330
...one thing, thou purchas'd once before. CHILDE-HOOD. I CANNOT reach it ; and my striving eye Dazles at it, as at eternity. Were now that chronicle alive,...my pow'r, Quickly would I make my path even, And by meer playing go to heaven. Who kisseth thorns will hurt his face, But flowers do both refresh and grace... | |
 | Henry Vaughan - 1858 - Страниц: 326
...now that Chronicle alive, Thofe white defigns which children drive, And the thoughts of each harmlefs hour, With their content too in my pow'r, Quickly would I make my path even, And by meer playing go to Heaven. Why mould men love A Wolf, more than a Lamb or Dove ? Or choofe hell-fire... | |
 | George Gilfillan - 1860 - Страниц: 364
...dumb; Keep clean, bear fruit, earn life, and watch, Till the white-winged reapers come! CHILDHOOD. I cannot reach it; and my striving eye Dazzles at...of each harmless hour, With their content too in my power, Quickly would I make my path even, And by mere playing go to heaven. Why should men love A wolf... | |
 | William Makepeace Thackeray - 1902 - Страниц: 874
...cannot reach it,' Henry Yaughan writes of that vanished spring : I cannot reach it, and my straining eye Dazzles at it, as at eternity. Were now that Chronicle...each harmless hour, With their content, too, in my power, Quickly would I make my path even, And by mere playing go to Heaven. The little boy in the abstract... | |
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I cannot reach it, and my striving eye Dazzles at it, as at eternity. Were now that chronicle alive, Those white designs which children drive, And the thoughts of each harmless hour, With their content too in my power, Quickly would I make my path even,... 
