A Christmas Garland: Carols and Poems from the Fifteenth Century to the Present Time

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J.C. Nimmo, 1885 - 278 strán (strany)
 

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Strana 96 - With terror of that blast Shall from the surface to the centre shake, When, at the world's last session, The dreadful Judge in middle air shall spread His throne. And then at last our bliss Full and perfect is, But now begins; for from this happy day The old Dragon under ground, In straiter limits bound, Not half so far casts his usurped sway; And, wroth to see his kingdom fail, Swinges the scaly horror of his folded tail.
Strana 99 - In vain with cymbals' ring They call the grisly king, In dismal dance about the furnace blue ; The brutish gods of Nile as fast, Isis, and Orus, and the dog Anubis, haste...
Strana 96 - But wisest Fate says No; This must not yet be so; The Babe yet lies in smiling infancy That on the bitter cross Must redeem our loss ; So both himself and us to glorify: Yet first, to those ychain'd in sleep The wakeful trump of doom must thunder through the deep...
Strana 92 - And, though the shady gloom Had given day her room, The sun himself withheld his wonted speed, And hid his head for shame, As his inferior flame The new-enlighten'd world no more should need. He saw a greater Sun appear Than his bright throne, or burning axletree, could bear.
Strana 100 - But see ! the Virgin blest Hath laid her Babe to rest ; Time is, our tedious song should here have ending: Heaven's youngest-teemed star Hath fixed her polished car, Her sleeping Lord with handmaid lamp attending: And all about the courtly stable Bright-harnessed Angels sit in order serviceable.
Strana 94 - Ring out, ye crystal spheres ! Once bless our human ears (If ye have power to touch our senses so), And let your silver chime Move in melodious time ; And let the bass of heaven's deep organ blow; And with your ninefold harmony Make up full consort to the angelic symphony.
Strana 97 - The oracles are dumb, No voice or hideous hum Runs through the arched roof in words deceiving. || Apollo from his shrine Can no more divine, With hollow shriek the steep of Delphos leaving. No nightly trance, or breathed spell, Inspires the pale-eyed priest from the prophetic cell.
Strana 147 - SO now is come our joyful'st feast; Let every man be jolly, Each room with ivy leaves is drest, And every post with holly. Though some churls at our mirth repine, Round your foreheads garlands twine, Drown sorrow in a cup of wine, And let us all be merry. Now, all our neighbours...
Strana 90 - It was the winter wild, While the Heaven-born Child All meanly wrapt in the rude manger lies ; Nature in awe to Him Had doffed her gaudy trim, With her great Master so to sympathize : It was no season then for her To wanton with the sun, her lusty paramour.
Strana 91 - But he, her fears to cease, Sent down the meek-eyed Peace ; She crown'd with olive green, came softly sliding Down through the turning sphere His ready harbinger, With turtle wing the amorous clouds dividing ; And waving wide her myrtle wand, She strikes a universal peace through sea and land.

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