The gallery of nature: a tour through creation, Volumen28

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Página 681 - Thou hast spread thy wing, and sheltered us from the pestilence that walketh in darkness, and the destruction that wasteth at noon-day.
Página 544 - Through optic glass the Tuscan artist views At evening from the top of Fesole Or in Valdarno to descry new lands, .Rivers or mountains in her spotty globe; His spear, to equal which the tallest pine Hewn on Norwegian hills to be the mast Of some great ammiral, were but a wand.
Página 70 - O'er the dark trees a yellower verdure shed, And tip with silver every mountain's head ; Then shine the vales, the rocks in prospect rise, A flood of glory bursts from all the skies ; ' The conscious swains, rejoicing in the sight, Eye the blue vault, and bless the useful light.
Página 563 - And he spake of trees, from the cedar tree that is in Lebanon even unto the hyssop that springeth out of the wall: he spake also of beasts, and of fowl, and of creeping things, and of fishes.
Página 714 - Thus Satan, talking to his nearest mate, With head up-lift above the wave, and eyes That sparkling blazed ; his other parts besides Prone on the flood, extended long and large, Lay floating many a rood...
Página 318 - Almighty's form Glasses itself in tempests; in all time, Calm or convulsed; in breeze or gale or storm, Icing the pole, or in the torrid clime Dark-heaving, boundless, endless, and sublime, — The image of Eternity, the throne Of the Invisible; even from out thy slime The monsters of the deep are made; each zone Obeys thee; thou goest forth, dread, fathomless, alone.
Página 254 - And when they came to Marah, they could not drink of the waters of Marah, for they were bitter : therefore the name of it was called Marah.
Página 201 - Motionless torrents! silent cataracts! Who made you glorious as the gates of Heaven Beneath the keen full moon? Who bade the sun Clothe you with rainbows? Who, with living flowers Of loveliest blue, spread garlands at your feet? God ! — let the torrents, like a shout of nations, Answer ! and let the ice-plains echo, God ! God!
Página 684 - Where glistening streamers waved and danced, The wanderer's eye could barely view The summer heaven's delicious blue ; So wondrous wild, the whole might seem The scenery of a fairy dream.
Página 1 - How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank! Here will we sit, and let the sounds of music Creep in our ears— soft stillness and the night Become the touches of sweet harmony...

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