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Seite 280 - Those that be planted in the house of the Lord shall flourish in the courts of our God. They shall still bring forth fruit in old age; they shall be fat and flourishing; To shew that the Lord is upright: he is my rock, and there is no unrighteousness in him.
Seite 184 - Reason thus with life, — If I do lose thee, I do lose a thing That none but fools would keep...
Seite 236 - His gardens next your admiration call; On every side you look, behold the wall! No pleasing intricacies intervene, No artful wildness to perplex the scene ; Grove nods at grove, each alley has a brother, And half the platform just reflects the other.
Seite 215 - There's fennel for you, and columbines; there's rue for you; and here's some for me; we may call it herb of grace o' Sundays. O, you must wear your rue with a difference. There's a daisy; I would give you some violets, but they withered all when my father died. They say he made a good end, — (sings) For bonny sweet Robin is all my joy.
Seite 232 - I speak not, because they are field flowers; but those which perfume the air most delightfully, not passed by as the rest, but being trodden upon and crushed, are three, that is, burnet, wild thyme, and watermints; therefore you are to set whole alleys of them, to have the pleasure when you walk or tread.
Seite 58 - Come, my Corinna, come; and, coming, mark How each field turns a street, each street a park Made green and trimm'd with trees: see how Devotion gives each house a bough Or branch: each porch, each door, ere this An ark, a tabernacle is, Made up of white-thorn neatly interwove; As if here were those cooler shades of love.
Seite 47 - When he was set down on the judgment seat, his wife sent unto him, saying, Have thou nothing to do with that just man : for I have suffered many things this day in a dream because of him.
Seite 131 - Come, bring with a noise, My merry, merry boys, The Christmas log to the firing ; While my good dame, she Bids ye all be free, And drink to your hearts
Seite 114 - Two Hazel Nuts I threw into the Flame, And to each Nut I gave a Sweet-heart's Name. This with the loudest Bounce me sore amaz'd, That in a Flame of brightest Colour blaz'd. As blaz'd the Nut, so may thy Passion grow, For 'twas thy Nut that did so brightly glow.