I
give an instance of each:
Here do seraphim
Burn with immortal love; there cherubim
_With other noble people of the light_,
As eaglets in the sun, delight their sight.
* * * * *
Like to a lightning through the welkin hurled,
_That scores with flames the way_, and every eye
With terror dazzles as it swimmeth by.
Here are six fine verses, in the heroic couplet, from _An Hymn of the
Resurrection_.
So a small seed that in the earth lies hid
And dies--reviving bursts her cloddy side;
Adorned with yellow locks, of new is born,
And doth become a mother great with corn;
Of grains bring hundreds with it, which when old
Enrich the furrows with a sea of gold.
But I must content myself now with a little madrigal, the only one fit
for my purpose. Those which would best support what I have said of his
music are not of the kind we want. Unfortunately, the end of this one is
not equal to the beginning.
CHANGE SHOULD BREED CHANGE.
New doth the sun appear;
The mountains' snows decay;
Crowned with frail flowers comes forth the baby year.
My soul, time posts away;
And thou yet in that frost,
Which flower and fruit hath lost,
As if all here immortal were, dost stay!
For shame! thy powers awake;
Look to that heaven which never night makes black;
And there, at that immortal sun's bright rays,
Deck thee with flowers which fear not rage of days.
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