This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1893. Excerpt: ... What wonder then if fields and regions here Breathe forth Elixir pure, and rivers run Potable gold, when with one virtuous touch The archchymic sun, so far from us remote, Produces, with terrestrial humour mix'd, Here in the dark so many precious things Of colour glorious, and effect so rare? HILTON HYMN TO LIGHT When, goddess, thou lift'st up thy waken'd head Out of the morning's purple bed, Thy quire of birds about thee play, And all the joyful world salutes the rising day. At thy appearance, grief itself is said To shake his wings and rouse his head, And cloudy care has often took A gentle beamy smile reflected from thy look. At thy appearance, fear itself grows bold; Thy sunshine melts away his cold. Encouraged at the sight of fhee, To the cheek colour comes, and firmness to the knee. Thou Scythian-like dost round thy lands above The Sun's gilt tent for ever move, And still as thou in pomp dost go, The shining pageants of the world attend thy show. All the world's bravery that delights our eyes Is but thy several liveries, Thou the rich dye on them bestowest, Thy nimble pencil paints this landscape as thou goest. A crimson garment in the rose thou wear'st; A crown of studded gold thou bear'st, The virgin lilies in their white Are clad but with the lawn of almost naked light Thou in the moon's bright chariot proud and gay Dost thy bright wood of stars survey; And all the year dost with thee bring Of thousand flowery lights thine own nocturnal spring. Nor amidst all these triumphs dost thou scorn The humble glow-worms to adorn, And with those living spangles gild (O greatness without pride ) the bushes of the field. COWLEY DAWN The busy larke, messager of day, Salueth in her song the morrow gray, And fiery Phoebus riseth up so bright That all the orien...