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Beat Beatrice beauty become better body born bring brother Chapman character comes copy death divine doubt earth English eternal expression eyes face fact fair fall fashion father fear feeling fire flowers forehead freedom genius give grows hand happy head hear heart heaven high forehead higher honour hope human husband imagination kind lady leaves less light lines lives look low forehead Lowell Massinger mean mind murder nature never noble passages perfect perhaps plays poems poesy poet poetry present race rest seems song sorrow soul spirit star strength sure sweet sympathy taste tell tender thee things thou thought touch tragedy true truly truth turn verse virtue whole wife woman write young
Page 86 - Lay a garland on my hearse, Of the dismal yew; Maidens, willow branches bear; Say I died true: My love was false, but I was firm From my hour of birth. Upon my buried body lie Lightly, gentle earth!
Page 94 - ON A GIRDLE. THAT which her slender waist confined Shall now my joyful temples bind : No monarch but would give his crown, His arms might do what this has done.
Page 90 - Her eyes the glow-worm lend thee, The shooting stars attend thee, And the elves also, Whose little eyes glow Like the sparks of fire, befriend thee.
Page 175 - Into a pretty anger, that a bird, Whom art had never taught cliffs, moods, or notes, Should vie with him for mastery, whose study Had busied many hours to perfect practice ; To end the controversy, in a rapture Upon his instrument he plays so swiftly So many voluntaries, and so quick That there was curiosity and cunning, Concord in discord, lines of differing method Meeting in one full centre of delight.
Page 93 - The first foe in the field ; And with a stronger faith embrace A sword, a horse, a shield, Yet this inconstancy is such As you, too, shall adore: I could not love thee, dear, so much, Loved I not honor more.
Page 86 - Hark! hark! the lark at heaven's gate sings, And Phoebus 'gins arise, His steeds to water at those springs On chaliced flowers that lies; And winking Mary-buds begin To ope their golden eyes; With everything that pretty bin : My lady sweet, arise! Arise! arise!
Page 204 - When my first fire knew no adulterate incense, Nor I no way to flatter, but my fondness, In all the bravery my friends could show me, In all the faith my innocence could give me, In the best language my true tongue could tell me, And all the broken sighs my sick heart lent me, I sued, and served.
Page 114 - Give me a spirit that on life's rough sea Loves to have his sails filled with a lusty wind, Even till his sail-yards tremble, his masts crack, And his rapt ship run on her side so low, That she drinks water, and her keel ploughs air.