Poems with rhymes of divine

Swear it by this golden wine,
Faithful to the vow divine,

The only king by right divine
Is Ellen King, and were she mine

In the harmony divine
Of an ever-lengthening line

Reflected in the beams divine;
Blown back they blind the mocking eye,
But still in Israel's paths they shine.

Because the Cause was Mine—
The Misery a Compact
As hopeless—as divine—

And on that Tomb to read the line,
Here lies a Love that once was mine,
But took a chill, as I divine,

He was the author of his line--
He wrote that witches should be burnt;
He wrote that monarchs were divine,

But tell me, Nymphs, what power divine
Shall henceforth wash the river Rhine ?

Of honey and venom-wine.
A little of it sipped by night
Makes the long hours divine.

Like a horse mount this wine,
without bridle, spurs, bit,
for a heaven divine!

In disregard of the divine,
A glory kindles in those eyes
Trembles to starlight. Mine, O Mine!

Hers be damask fine—
Tho' she wear a silver apron—
I, a less divine—

'Tis in the gifted line,
In each far thought divine,

In any breast as thou hast rais'd in mine.
No wandering meteor now, no marshy fire,
Leads on my steps, but lofty, but divine:

From germs divine.
They pass, the faery words,
In shade and shine,

Were Princes grac'd with Souls like thine,
Princes had still been deem'd divine.

Ye be, as I divine,
The pretty primrose,
The goodly columbine.

My spouse, beloved and divine!
Then I am rich, and I abound,
When every human heart is thine.

Ye be, as I divine,
The pretty primrose,
The goodly columbine.

(Sweet bush to a far sweeter wine),
With joy for man, sweet-thorn for Christ,
Not pagan all, not all divine.