Cædmon, the first English poet

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Seite 38 - A dungeon horrible on all sides round, As one great furnace flamed ; yet from those flames No light ; but rather darkness visible, Served only to discover sights of woe, Regions of sorrow, doleful shades, where peace And rest can never dwell ; hope never comes, That comes to all ; but torture without end Still urges, and a fiery deluge, fed With ever-burning sulphur unconsumed.
Seite 45 - Are not my days few? Cease then, and let me alone, that I may take comfort a little before I go whence I shall not return, even to the land of darkness and the shadow of death; a land of darkness, as darkness itself, and of the shadow of death, without any order and where the light is as darkness.
Seite 50 - There is a place (If ancient and prophetic fame in Heaven Err not), another world, the happy seat Of some new race called Man...
Seite 83 - For Christ also hath once suffered for sins, the just for the unjust, that he might bring us to God, being put to death in the flesh, but quickened by the Spirit...
Seite 38 - If he opposed, and with ambitious aim Against the throne and monarchy of God Raised impious war in Heaven, and battle proud, With vain attempt.
Seite 44 - With hideous ruin and combustion down To bottomless perdition, there to dwell In adamantine* chains and penal fire, Who durst defy the Omnipotent to arms. Nine times the space that measures day and night To mortal men...
Seite 38 - The Mother of Mankind, what time his pride Had cast him out from Heaven, with all his host Of rebel Angels, by whose aid aspiring To set himself in glory...
Seite 38 - Hurled headlong flaming from the ethereal sky With hideous ruin and combustion down To bottomless perdition, there to dwell In adamantine* chains and penal fire, PARADISE LOST 33 \Vho durst defy the Omnipotent to arms.
Seite 52 - In billows, leave in the midst a horrid vale. Then with expanded wings he steers his flight Aloft, incumbent on the dusky air, That felt unusual weight ; till on dry land He lights, if it were land that ever...
Seite 47 - He brings, and round about him, nor from hell One step, no more than from himself, can fly By change of place : now conscience wakes despair That slumber'd ; wakes the bitter memory Of what he was, what is, and what must be, Worse ; of worse deeds worse sufferings must ensue.

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