Select Beauties of Ancient English Poetry |
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Page 14
... dear , And doth embrace the world , and worldly things ; She flies close by the ground , and hovers here , And mounts not up with her celestial wings . 1 Yet under heav'n fhe cannot light on aught That with her heavenly nature doth ...
... dear , And doth embrace the world , and worldly things ; She flies close by the ground , and hovers here , And mounts not up with her celestial wings . 1 Yet under heav'n fhe cannot light on aught That with her heavenly nature doth ...
Page 31
... those heaps , which now they have in trust ? Dear flesh , while I do pray , learn here thy stem And true defcent : that when thou shalt grow fat , And And wanton in thy cravings , thou mayst know , DIDACTIC AND MORAL PIECES . 31.
... those heaps , which now they have in trust ? Dear flesh , while I do pray , learn here thy stem And true defcent : that when thou shalt grow fat , And And wanton in thy cravings , thou mayst know , DIDACTIC AND MORAL PIECES . 31.
Page 58
... Dear lofs ! fince thy untimely fate My talk hath been to meditate On thee , on thee : thou art the book , The library whereon I look Though almost blind , for thee ( lov'd clay ) I languish out not live the day , Ufing no other exercise ...
... Dear lofs ! fince thy untimely fate My talk hath been to meditate On thee , on thee : thou art the book , The library whereon I look Though almost blind , for thee ( lov'd clay ) I languish out not live the day , Ufing no other exercise ...
Page 59
... dear wifh The earth now interpofed is , Which fuch a strange eclipse doth make As ne're was read in Almanake . I could allow thee for a time To darken me and my fad clime Were it a month , a year , or ten , I would thư exile live till ...
... dear wifh The earth now interpofed is , Which fuch a strange eclipse doth make As ne're was read in Almanake . I could allow thee for a time To darken me and my fad clime Were it a month , a year , or ten , I would thư exile live till ...
Page 60
... dear monument . So close the ground , and ' bout her shade Black curtains draw , my Bride is laid . Sleep on , my Love , in thy cold bed Never to be difquieted ! My last good night ! thou wilt not wake Till I thy fate shall overtake : + ...
... dear monument . So close the ground , and ' bout her shade Black curtains draw , my Bride is laid . Sleep on , my Love , in thy cold bed Never to be difquieted ! My last good night ! thou wilt not wake Till I thy fate shall overtake : + ...
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Common terms and phrases
againſt alfo almoſt beauty beſt birds cauſe Comus dayes dead dear death defcribing defcription defire doth Drayton Drummond Du Bartas duft Earle earle of March earth Edit ELEGY expreffion fafe fair fame fate feems feen felf ferve fhall fhew fhine fhould fighs filent fince fing firſt flaine fleepe Fletcher flowers fome fong forrow foule fpirit ftill fubject fuch fweet glory grace grief hand hath heart Heaven himſelf honour inftances King laſt lines live loft Lond Lord Milton moft moſt Mufes muft muſt myſelf night obfervations paffage paffed paſt pleaſures Poet poetry Poly-Olbion praiſe prefent Priam profe Quarles Queen reft Robert Fitz Walter Robert Southwell rofe ſay ſhall ſhe Sonne Spenfer ſpent ſtill ſtore ſweet teares thee thefe themſelves theſe thine thofe thoſe thou thought unto uſed verfes verſe Vertue whofe whoſe wiſh
Popular passages
Page 107 - Love's latest breath, When, his pulse failing, Passion speechless lies; When Faith is kneeling by his bed of death, And Innocence is closing up his eyes : Now, if thou wouldst, when all have given him over, From death to life thou might'st him yet recover.
Page 107 - Since there's no help, come, let us kiss and part! Nay, I have done. You get no more of me! And I am glad, yea, glad with all my heart, That thus so cleanly I myself can free. Shake hands for ever! Cancel all our vows! And when we meet at any time again, Be it not seen in either of our brows That we one jot of former love retain.
Page 162 - Wisely regardful of the embroiling sky, In joyless fields and thorny thickets, leaves His shivering mates, and pays to trusted man His annual visit. Half afraid, he first Against the window beats; then, brisk, alights On the warm hearth; then, hopping o'er the floor, Eyes all the smiling family askance, And pecks, and starts, and wonders where he is; Till more familiar grown, the table-crumbs Attract his slender feet.
Page 149 - And thus still doing, thus he pass'd along. Duch. Alas ! poor Richard ! where rides he the while ? York. As in a theatre, the eyes of men, After a well-graced actor leaves the stage, Are idly bent on him that enters next, Thinking his prattle to be tedious : Even so, or with much more contempt, men's eyes Did scowl on Richard ; no man cried, God save him...
Page 149 - God save him; No joyful tongue gave him his welcome home: But dust was thrown upon his sacred head ; Which with such gentle sorrow he shook off,— His face still combating with tears and smiles, The badges of his grief and patience,— That had not God, for some strong purpose, steel'd The hearts of men, they must perforce have melted, And barbarism itself have pitied him.
Page 60 - Thou wilt not wake Till I thy fate shall overtake: Till age, or grief, or sickness must Marry my body to that dust It so much loves; and fill the room My heart keeps empty in thy tomb.
Page 85 - My care is like my shadow in the sun, Follows me flying, flies when I pursue it; Stands and lies by me, does what I have done; This too familiar care does make me rue it: No means I find to rid him from my breast, Till by the end of things it be supprest.
Page 36 - I cannot, I, no, no ! it will not be. This is the cause that I could never yet Hang on their sleeves that weigh, as thou mayst see, A chip of chance more than a pound of wit.
Page 21 - LIKE to the falling of a star, Or as the flights of eagles are, Or like the fresh spring's gaudy hue, Or silver drops of morning dew, Or like a wind that chafes the flood, Or bubbles which on water stood : Even such is man, whose borrowed light Is straight called in and paid to-night.
Page 174 - If I do prove her haggard, Though that her jesses were my dear heart-strings, I'd whistle her off, and let her down the wind, To prey at fortune.