A History of English Rhythms, Band 2

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W. Pickering, 1838
 

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Seite 233 - Tarsus, bound for th' isles Of Javan or Gadire, With all her bravery on, and tackle trim, Sails fill'd, and streamers waving, Courted by all the winds that hold them play...
Seite 356 - Who is Silvia ? what is she, That all our swains commend her ? Holy, fair, and wise is she, The heaven such grace did lend her, That she might admired be. Is she kind as she is fair ? For beauty lives with kindness : Love doth to her eyes repair, To help him of his blindness ; And, being help'd, inhabits there.
Seite 346 - The lily and rose, that neither sowed nor spun. What neat repast shall feast us, light and choice, Of Attic taste, with wine, whence we may rise. To hear the lute well touched, or artful voice Warble immortal notes and Tuscan air ? He who of those delights can judge, and spare To interpose them oft, is not unwise.
Seite 346 - Thy works, and alms, and all thy good endeavour, Staid not behind, nor in the grave were trod ; But, as Faith pointed with her golden rod, Followed thee up to joy and bliss for ever. Love led them on, and Faith, who knew them best, Thy hand-maids, clad them o'er with purple beams And azure wings, that up they flew so drest, And spake the truth of thee on glorious themes Before the Judge ; who thenceforth bid thee rest, And drink thy fill of pure immortal streams.
Seite 277 - I cannot eat but little meat, My stomach is not good ; But sure I think, that I can drink With him that wears a hood...
Seite 291 - And frolic it, with ho, ho, ho! Sometimes I meet them like a man, Sometimes an ox, sometimes a hound; And to a horse I turn me can, To trip and trot about them round. But if to ride My back they stride, More swift than wind away I go: O'er hedge and lands, Through pools and ponds I hurry laughing, ho, ho, ho!
Seite 358 - Yet do not; I would not go, Though at next door we might meet. Though she were true when you met her, And last till you write your letter, Yet she Will be False, ere I come, to two or three.
Seite 346 - To Mr. Lawrence LAWRENCE, of virtuous father virtuous son, Now that the fields are dank, and ways are mire, Where shall we sometimes meet, and by the fire Help waste a sullen day, what may be won From the hard season gaining? Time will run On smoother, till Favonius reinspire The frozen earth, and clothe in fresh attire The lily and rose, that neither sowed nor spun.
Seite 345 - What more felicity can fall to creature Than to enjoy delight with liberty, And to be lord of all the works of nature! To reign in the air from earth to highest sky, To feed on flowers and weeds of glorious feature, To take whatever thing doth please the eye ! Who rests not pleased with such happiness, Well worthy he to taste of wretchedness.
Seite 364 - Nothing, who dwell'st with fools in grave disguise, For whom they reverend shapes, and forms devise Lawn sleeves, and furs, and gowns, when they like thee look wise. French truth, Dutch prowess, British policy, Hibernian learning, Scotch civility, Spaniards' dispatch, Danes' wit, are mainly seen in thee.

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