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— William Blake

Does the Eagle know what is in the pit?

Or wilt thou go ask the Mole:

Can Wisdom be put in a silver rod?

Or Love in a golden bowl?

…

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noun

One who, or that which, accelerates.

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III. 3.

22 lines
Thomas Gray·1716–1771
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The verse adorn again 125Fierce War, and faithful Love,And Truth severe, by fairy Fiction drest.In buskin'd measures movePale Grief, and pleasing Pain,With Horror, tyrant of the throbbing breast. 130A voice, as of the cherub-choir,Gales from blooming Eden bear;And distant warblings lessen on my ear,That lost in long futurity expire.Fond impious man, think'st thou yon sanguine cloud, 135Rais'd by thy breath, has quench'd the orb of day?To-morrow he repairs the golden flood,And warms the nations with redoubled ray.Enough for me; with joy I seeThe different doom our fates assign. 140Be thine despair, and sceptred care;To triumph, and to die, are mine."He spoke, and headlong from the mountain's heightDeep in the roaring tide he plung'd to endless night. [Illustration: QUEEN ELIZABETH.] [Illustration]
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