Matthew Prior. Dialogues of the Dead and Other Works in Prose and Verse. The Text Edited by A. R. Waller |
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Matthew Prior. Dialogues of the Dead and Other Works | ||
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Wake Goddess wake Thy drousy LyreLet the neglected Chords to louder Strains be strung,
And raise Thy voice, and swell thy numbers higher,
No common Theme requires Thy Song
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The promis'd day, the glorious Birth is come:
'Tis come; the noble Babe securely lies
On his fair Mothers joyful breast;
(Happy his Age whose Infancy enjoys
A Seat of Plenty and a Heav'n of rest.)
But Oh! what Clouds of glory, clouds of light
Too strong for feeble Mans external Eye
Roll round the noble Babe, and mock my drowned sight:
That Light, that glory I wou'd see;
Hear, Goddess, hear thy Votary
The meanest of thy Sons inspire
Come to my breast, and with Thy pow'rful ray
Drive dimm humanity away
Wake, Goddess, wake thy Lyre.
Matthew Prior. Dialogues of the Dead and Other Works | ||