Father, I firmly do believe - I know - for Death, who comes for me From regions of the blest afar, Where there is nothing to deceive, Hath left his iron gate ajar, And rays of truth you cannot see Are flashing thro' Eternity -- I do believe that Eblis hath A snare in ev'ry human path - Else how, when in the holy grove I wandered of the idol, Love, Who daily scents his snowy wings With incense of burnt offerings From the most unpolluted things, Whose pleasant bowers are yet so riven Above with trelliced rays from Heaven No mote
may shun - no tiniest fly The light'ning of his eagle eye - How was it that Ambition crept, Unseen, amid the revels there, Till growing bold, he laughed and leapt In the tangles of Love's very hair?
She realized that she herself was no more than a mote
caught up in this tangled, nonunderstandable conflict of many motes
Perched on the rim of Michael's pannikin, this inconsiderable adventurer from out of the dark into the sun of life, a mere spark and mote
between the darks, by a ruffing of his salmon-pink crest, a swift and enormous dilation of his bead-black pupils, and a raucous imperative cry, as of all the gods, in his throat, could make Michael give back and permit the fastidious selection of the choicest tidbits of his dish.
He was a beautiful boy, a lithe young god in breathing bronze, eyes wide apart, intelligent and daring, a bubble, a mote
, a beautiful flash and sparkle of life.
The nighthawk circled overhead in the sunny afternoons -- for I sometimes made a day of it -- like a mote
in the eye, or in heaven's eye, falling from time to time with a swoop and a sound as if the heavens were rent, torn at last to very rags and tatters, and yet a seamless cope remained; small imps that fill the air and lay their eggs on the ground on bare sand or rocks on the tops of hills, where few have found them; graceful and slender like ripples caught up from the pond, as leaves are raised by the wind to float in the heavens; such kindredship is in nature.
Yet anon it would rise again, a mere mote
dancing in the dim gray distance, drifting towards a purple island, beneath a fading western sky, streaked with dead gold and cerise.
It had never been a good eye to see with--had long had the mote
in it of Lucifer's pride, Sardana--palus's luxury, and a mole's blindness--but it had dropped out and was gone.
They'll bleat and baa, dona like goats, Gorge down black sheep, and strain at motes
, Array their backs in fine black coats, Then seize their negroes by their throats, And choke, for heavenly union.
He was aware of motes
and specks of suspicion in the atmosphere of that time; seen through which medium, Christopher Casby was a mere Inn signpost, without any Inn--an invitation to rest and be thankful, when there was no place to put up at, and nothing whatever to be thankful for.
Go on, boy, and don't mind; for so long as I fill my pouch, no matter if I show as many inaccuracies as there are motes
in a sunbeam.
She sat in a blaze of oppressive heat, in a cloud of moving dust, and her eyes could only wander from the walls, marked by her father's head, to the table cut and notched by her brothers, where stood the tea-board never thoroughly cleaned, the cups and saucers wiped in streaks, the milk a mixture of motes
floating in thin blue, and the bread and butter growing every minute more greasy than even Rebecca's hands had first produced it.
In the beginning of dinner, the party being small and the room still, these motes
from the mass of a magistrate's mind fell too noticeably.