Pange, lingua, gloriosi Corporis mysterium, Sanguinisque pretiosi, Quem in mundi pretium Fructus ventris generosi Rex effudit gentium. Now, my tongue, the mystery telling Of the glorious Body sing, And the Blood, all price excelling, Which the Gentiles' Lord and King, In aVirgin's womb once dwelling, Shed for this world's ransoming.
Naked came I out of my mother's womb, and naked shall I return thither: the L gave, and the L hath taken away; blessed be the name of the L.
Wherefore then hast thou brought me forth out of the womb? Oh that I had given up the ghost, and no eye had seen me!
Lo, children are an heritage of the L: and the fruit of the womb is his reward. As arrows are in the hand of a mighty man; so are children of the youth. Happy is the man that hath his quiver full of them: they shall not be ashamed, but they shall speak with the enemies in the gate.
O wombe! O bely! O stynkyng cod Fulfilled of dong and of corrupcioun!
Assoon as I stepped out of my mother's womb on to dry land, I realized that I had made a mistakebut the trouble with children is that they are not returnable.
Immensity cloistered in thy dear womb.
From plots and treasons Heaven preserve my years, But save me most from my petitioners. Unsatiate as the barren womb or grave; God cannot grant so much as they can crave.
Historians spend their lives and lavish ink Explaining how great commonwealths collapse From great defects of policyperhaps The cause is sometimes simpler than they think. Have more states perished, then, For having shackled the enquiring mind, Than those who, in their folly not less blind, Trusted the servile womb to breed free men?
They call her a young country, but they lie: She is the last of lands, the emptiest, A woman beyond her change of life, a breast Still tender but within the womb is dry.
To be no more; sad cure; for who would lose, Though full of pain, this intellectual being, Those thoughts that wander through eternity, To perish rather, swallowed up and lost In the wide womb of uncreated night, Devoid of sense and motion?
Forget not bees in winter, though they sleep, For winter's big with summer in her womb.
I am the daughter of Earth and Water, And the nursling of the Sky; I pass through the pores of the ocean and shores; I change, but I cannot die, For after the rain when with never a stain The pavilion of Heaven is bare, And the winds and sunbeams with their convex gleams Build up the blue dome of air, I silently laugh at my own cenotaph, And out of the caverns of rain, Like a child from the womb, like a ghost from the tomb, I arise and unbuild it again.
The principle which prompts to save is the desire of bettering our conditiona desire whichcomes with us from the womb and never leaves us till we go into the grave.
First, sturdy March with brows full sternly bent, And arme' d strongly, rode upon a ram, The same which over Hellespontus swam: Yet in his hand a spade he also hent, And in a bag all sorts of seeds ysame, Which on the earth he strowe' d as he went, And filled her womb with fruitful hope of nourishment.
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