The familiar astrologer, by Raphael

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1832
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Page 483 - secured in her existence, smiles At the drawn dagger, and defies its point. The stars shall fade away, the sun himself Grow dim with age, and nature sink in years, But thou shall flourish in immortal youth, Unhurt amidst the war of elements, THE
Page 260 - be • In their gold coats spots you see , Those be rubies, fairy favours, In those freckles live their savours' I must go seek some dew drops here, And hang a pearl in every cowslip's car. Farewell, thou lob of Spirits,
Page 448 - Respecting man, whatever wrong we call, May, must be right, as relative to all. In human works, though labour'd on with pain, A thousand movements scarce one purpose gain; In God's, one single can its end produce ; Yet serves to second too
Page 429 - His left hand held his book of might, A silver cross was in his right; The lamp was placed beside his knee: High and majestic was his look, At which the fellest fiends had shook ; And all unruffled was his face, They trusted his soul had gotten grace. And when the priest his death-prayer had
Page 419 - No. 1. EVINCING THE WONDERFUL POWER OF ASTRAL AGENCY OVER LIFE AND DEATH. " For Heaven Is as the book of God before thee set; Wherein to read his wond'rous works, and learn His seasons, hours, or days, or mouths, or years.
Page 429 - Before their eyes the wizard lay, As if he had not been dead a day. His hoary beard in silver roll'd, • He seem'd some seventy winters old ; His left hand held his book of might, A silver cross was in his right; The lamp was placed beside his knee: High and majestic was his look, At which the fellest
Page 686 - the Emperor of the French, King of Italy, Protector of the Confederation of the Rhine, Grand Master of the Legion of Honour, reposed with almost as little sepulchral pomp, as the humble tenant of a country church-yard. 'After life's fitful
Page 269 - pearl, and rich embroidery, Buckled below fair knighthood's bending knee, Fairies use flowers for their charactery. Away, disperse ! but, till 'tis one o'clock, Our dance of custom, round about the oak Of Herne the hunter, let us
Page 429 - Lo ! Warrior! now the cross of red Points to the grave of the mighty dead ' Within it burns a wond'rous light, To chase the spirits that love the night. With beating heart to the task he went, His sinewy frame o'er the grave-stone
Page 430 - in terror took, From the cold hand the mighty book. With iron clasp'd, and with iron bound, He thought as he took it, the dead man frown'd. When the huge stone sunk o'er the tomb, The night return'd in double gloom; For the moon had gone

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