Hadad, a Dramatic Poem

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E. Bliss & E. White, 1825 - Bible plays - 208 pages
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Page 64 - And the soul that turneth after such as have familiar spirits, and after wizards, to go a whoring after them, I will even set my face against that soul, and will cut him off from among his people.
Page 77 - Ha ! with woman ? Had. She Attracts them with her gentler virtues, soft, And beautiful, and heavenly, like themselves. They have been known to love her with a passion Stronger than human.
Page 4 - In conformity to the act of Congress of the United States, entitled, " An act for the encouragement of learning, by securing the copies of maps, charts and books, to the authors and proprietors of such copies, during the times therein mentioned ;
Page 36 - Meek labour wipes his brow, and intermits The curse, to clasp the younglings of his cot ; Herdsmen, and shepherds, fold their flocks — and hark ! What merry strains they send from Olivet ! The jar of life is still ; the city speaks In gentle murmurs ; voices chime with lutes Waked in the streets and gardens; loving pairs Eye the red west in one another's arms ; And nature, breathing dew and fragrance, yields A glimpse of happiness, which He, who formed Earth and the stars, had power to make eternal.
Page 72 - Never did I view Such awful majesty : his reverend locks Hung like a silver mantle to his feet, His raiment glistered saintly white, his brow Rose like the gate of Paradise, his mouth Was musical as its bright guardians
Page 76 - Had. There they dwell, and muse, And wander ; beings beautiful, immortal, Minds vast as heaven, capacious as the sky, Whose thoughts connect past, present, and to come, And glow with light intense, imperishable. Thus, in the sparry chambers of the sea And air-pavilions, rainbow tabernacles, „ They study Nature's secrets, and enjoy No poor dominion.
Page 35 - I've lingered to enjoy its solemn tones, Till the broad moon, that rose o'er Olivet, Stood listening in the zenith ; yea, have deemed Viols and heavenly voices answered him. Tarn. But these— Had. Were we in Syria, I might say The naiad...
Page 40 - I think thy gentle nature Shudders at him and yonder bloody rites. How dreadful ! when the world awakes to light, And life, and gladness, and the jocund tide Bounds in the veins of every happy creature, Morning is ushered by a murdered victim, Whose wasting members reek upon the air, Polluting the pure firmament ; the shades Of evening scent of death ; almost, the shrine...
Page 39 - Having enjoyed all pleasures here That Nature prompts, but chiefly blissful love, At death the happy Syrian maiden deems Her immaterial flies into the fields, Or circumambient clouds, or crystal brooks, And dwells, a Deity, with those she worshipped ; Till time, or fate, return her in its course To quaff, once more, the cup of human joy.
Page 38 - O'er them, the Spirit of the Universe, Or Soul of Nature, circumfuses all With mild, benevolent, and sun-like radiance ; Pervading, warming, vivifying earth, As spirit does the body, till green herbs, And beauteous flowers, and branchy cedars rise ; And shooting stellar influence through her caves, Whence minerals and gems imbibe their lustre.

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