Our revels are now ended. These our actors
As I foretold you, were all spirits and
Are melted into air, into thin air;
And, like the baseless fabric of this vision,
The cloud-capped tow'rs, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
Yea, all of which it inherit, shall dissolve,
And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,
Is rounded with a sleep.
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The people's prayer, the glad diviner's theme!
The young men's vision, and the old men's dream.
The people's prayer, the glad diviner's theme!
The young men's vision, and the old men's dream.
Concerning perfect blessed ness which consists in a vision of
God.
[Lat., Circa beatitudinem perfectam, quae in Dei read more
Concerning perfect blessed ness which consists in a vision of
God.
[Lat., Circa beatitudinem perfectam, quae in Dei visione
consistit.]
I wonder if ever a song was sung but the singer's heart sang
sweeter!
I wonder if ever read more
I wonder if ever a song was sung but the singer's heart sang
sweeter!
I wonder if ever a rhyme was rung but the thought surpassed the
meter!
I wonder if ever a sculptor wrought till the cold stone echoed
his ardent thought!
Or, if ever a painter with light and shade the dream of his
inmost heart portrayed!
Where there is no vision, the people perish: but he that keepeth
the law, happy is he.
Where there is no vision, the people perish: but he that keepeth
the law, happy is he.
Gorgons, and Hydras, and Chimaeras dire.
Gorgons, and Hydras, and Chimaeras dire.
Visions of glory, spare my aching sight!
Ye unborn ages, crown not on my soul.
Visions of glory, spare my aching sight!
Ye unborn ages, crown not on my soul.
So little distant dangers seem:
So we mistake the future's face,
Ey'd thro' Hope's deluding glass;
read more
So little distant dangers seem:
So we mistake the future's face,
Ey'd thro' Hope's deluding glass;
As yon summits soft and fair,
Clad in colours of the air,
Which to those who journey near,
Barren, brown, and rough appear.
It is a dream, sweet child! a waking dream,
A blissful certainty, a vision bright,
Of that read more
It is a dream, sweet child! a waking dream,
A blissful certainty, a vision bright,
Of that rare happiness, which even on earth
Heaven gives to those it loves.
Abou Ben Adhem (may his tribe increase!)
Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace,
And read more
Abou Ben Adhem (may his tribe increase!)
Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace,
And say, within the moonlight in his room,
Making it rich, and like a lily in bloom,
An angel, writing in a book of gold;
Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold,
And to the presence in the room he said--
"What writest thou?" The Vision raised its head,
And, with a look made all of sweet accord,
Answered, "The names of those who love the Lord."
