Hush, my dear, lie still and slumber!

Holy angels guard thy bed!

Heavenly blessings without number

Gently falling on thy head.

Isaac Watts (1674-1748): A Cradle Hymn.

One of those heavenly days that cannot die.

William Wordsworth (1770-1850): Nutting.

For we by conquest, of our soveraine might,

And by eternall doome of Fate's decree,

Have wonne the Empire of the Heavens bright.

Edmund Spenser (1553-1599): Faerie Queene. Book vii. Canto xi. St. 33.

O gracious God! how far have we

Profan'd thy heavenly gift of poesy!

John Dryden (1631-1701): Elegy on Mrs. Killegrew. Line 56.

So dear to heav'n is saintly chastity,

That when a soul is found sincerely so,

A thousand liveried angels lackey her,

Driving far off each thing of sin and guilt,

And in clear dream and solemn vision

Tell her of things that no gross ear can hear,

Till oft converse with heav'nly habitants

Begin to cast a beam on th' outward shape.

John Milton (1608-1674): Comus. Line 453.

From harmony, from heavenly harmony,

This universal frame began:

From harmony to harmony

Through all the compass of the notes it ran,

The diapason closing full in Man.

John Dryden (1631-1701): A Song for St. Cecilia's Day. Line 11.

Thus heavenly hope is all serene,

But earthly hope, how bright soe'er,

Still fluctuates o'er this changing scene,

As false and fleeting as 't is fair.

Reginald Heber (1783-1826): On Heavenly Hope and Earthly Hope.

Praise God, from whom all blessings flow!

Praise Him, all creatures here below!

Praise Him above, ye heavenly host!

Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost!

Thomas Ken (1637-1711): Morning and Evening Hymn.

Blessings be with them, and eternal praise,

Who gave us nobler loves, and nobler cares!—

The Poets, who on earth have made us heirs

Of truth and pure delight by heavenly lays.

William Wordsworth (1770-1850): Personal Talk. Stanza 4.

When Music, heavenly maid, was young,

While yet in early Greece she sung.

William Collins (1720-1756): The Passions. Line 1.

Soft is the music that would charm forever;

The flower of sweetest smell is shy and lowly.

William Wordsworth (1770-1850): Not Love, not War.

And is there care in Heaven? And is there love

In heavenly spirits to these Creatures bace?

Edmund Spenser (1553-1599): Faerie Queene. Book ii. Canto viii. St. 1.