Davison's Poetical rhapsody. With a preface by E. Brydges, Volume 1

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Page 37 - Nature to thee does reverence pay, 111 omens and ill sights removes out of thy way. At thy appearance, Grief itself is said To shake his wings, and rouse his head : And cloudy Care has often took A gentle beamy smile, reflected from thy look.
Page 44 - Twixt both his hands few sparks he close did strain, Which still he blew, and kindled busily, That soon they life conceiv'd and forth in flames did fly.
Page 43 - His garment neither was of silk nor say, But painted plumes, in goodly order dight, Like as the sun-burnt Indians do array Their tawny bodies in their proudest plight: As those same plumes, so seem'd he...
Page 55 - Were I as base as is the lowly plain, And you, my Love, as high as heaven above, Yet should the thoughts of me your humble swain Ascend to heaven, in honour of my Love. Were I as high as heaven above the plain, And you, my Love, as humble and as low As are the deepest bottoms of the main, Whereso'er you were, with you my love should go.
Page 42 - Sistat, et ingenti ramorum protegat umbra! Felix, qui potuit rerum cognoscere causas; Atque metus omnes et inexorabile fatum Subjecit pedibus, strepitumque Acherontis avari!
Page 62 - MY Love in her attire doth show her wit, It doth so well become her; For every season she hath dressings fit, For Winter, Spring, and Summer. No beauty she doth miss When all her robes are on: But Beauty's self she is When all her robes are gone.
Page 57 - At whose command the waves obey ; To whom the rivers tribute pay, Down the high mountains sliding: To whom the scaly nation yields Homage for the crystal fields Wherein they dwell: And every sea-god pays a gem Yearly out of his watery cell To deck great Neptune's diadem.
Page 18 - But when the silver waggon of the Moon Is mounted up so high he cannot follow, The sea calls home his crystal waves to moan, And with low ebb doth manifest his sorrow. So you, that are the sovereign of my heart, Have all my joys attending on your will ; My joys low ebbing when you do depart, When you return, their tide my heart doth fill.
Page 55 - Were you the earth, dear love, and I the skies, My love should shine on you like to the sun, And look upon you with ten thousand eyes, Till heaven waxed blind, and till the world were done.

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