At last surrounds their sight A globe of circular light, That with long beams the shamefac'd night array'd; The helmèd Cherubim, And sworded Seraphim, Are seen in glittering ranks with wings display'd, Harping in loud and solemn quire, With unexpressive notes to Heaven's new-born Heir.

And there is seven years and seven lents of pardon; and the body of St. George lieth in the middle of the quire or choir of the said chapel, and in his tomb is an hole that a man may put in his hand.

Divine Matilda's angel did appear, Deck'd like a vestal ready for heaven's quire, And to this earthly trunk will not come near.

And all things fair and graceful in the woods I loved with liberal heart; the violets Were dear for her dear eyes, the quiring birds That caught the musical tremble of her voice.

He seems most sincerely religious, especially on solemn days; for he comes often to church to make a shew, [and is a part of the quire hangings.]

The regular students are provided with portfolios, or rather, soft leathern pouches, which they can fold and pocket, containing the heft or quire of paper on which the lecture is transcribed by them wholly or in part.

"Everyone also to beare a faggot of wood before the procession on a certain Sunday at Burford from the Quire doore going out, to the quire doore going in, and once to bear a faggot at the burning of a heretic.

"Everyone also to beare a faggot of wood before the procession on a certain Sunday at Burford from the Quire doore going out, to the quire doore going in, and once to bear a faggot at the burning of a heretic.

Look how the floor of heaven Is thick inlaid with patines of bright gold: There's not the smallest orb which thou behold'st But in his motion like an angel sings, Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubins; Such harmony is in immortal souls; But whilst this muddy vesture of decay Doth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it.'"

There let the pealing organ blow, To the full-voiced quire below, In service high, and anthems clear, As may with sweetness, through mine ear Dissolve me into ecstasies, And bring all Heaven before mine eyes.

While Shakespeare in the last Act of The Merchant of Venice makes all the stars vocal, and not the planets only: There's not the smallest orb which thou beholdest But in his motion like an angel sings, Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubims...

There thou, sweet saint, before the quire shalt go, As harbinger of heaven, the way to show, The way which thou so well hast learn'd below.

Now sing, ye joyful angels, and admire Your brother's voice that conies to mend your quire Sing you,while endless tears our eyes bestow: 80 For like Amyntas none is left below.

None but the brave, None but the brave, None but the brave deserves the fair. 2 Timotheus, placed on high Amid the tuneful quire, With flying fingers touch'd the lyre:

Look how the floor of heaven Is thick inlaid with patines of bright gold: There's not the smallest orb which thou behold'st But in his motion like an angel sings, Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubins; Such harmony is in immortal souls; But whilst this muddy vesture of decay Doth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it.

THE EXTREMITIES, by Daniel P. Quiring, Beatrice A. Boyle & others.

QUIRING, DANIEL P. SEE THE EXTREMITIES.

By Daniel P. Quiring.

THE EXTREMITIES, by Daniel P. Quiring, Beatrice A. Boyle & others.

QUIRING, DANIEL P. SEE THE EXTREMITIES.

By Daniel P. Quiring.

It is said that Frederick the Great went into battle with a vial of poison in one pocket and a quire of bad verse in the other.

Till I sing day from Tethis armes, and fire With ayry raptures the whole morning quire, Till the small birds their Silvan notes display And sing with us, 'Joy to Parthenia!' (ib.)

He ceas'd, and as approving all he spoke, The quire of birds their heav'nly tunes renew, The turtles sigh'd, and sighs with kisses broke, The fowls to shades unseen, by pairs withdrew; It seem'd the laurel chaste, and stubborn oak, And all the gentle trees on earth that grew, It seem'd the land, the sea, and heav'n above, All breath'd out fancy sweet, and sigh'd out love.

Love in my heart a-growing. 'Twas in the glorious month of May, When all the birds were quiring, In burning words I told her all My yearning, my aspiring.