The Life of Andrew Marvell, the Celebrated Patriot: With Extracts and Selections from His Prose and Poetical Works

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Simpkin and Marshall, 1832 - 116 Seiten
 

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Seite 90 - And sends the fowls to us in care, On daily visits through the air ; He hangs in shades the orange bright, Like golden lamps in a green night...
Seite 99 - Deserts of vast eternity. Thy beauty shall no more be found; Nor, in thy marble vault, shall sound My echoing song: then worms shall try That long-preserv'd virginity: And your quaint honour turn to dust; And into ashes all my lust. The grave's a fine and private place, But none, I think, do there embrace.
Seite 99 - But thirty thousand to the rest; An age at least to every part, And the last age should show your heart; For, Lady, you deserve this state, Nor would I love at lower rate. But at my back I always hear Time's winged chariot hurrying near; And yonder all before us lie Deserts of vast eternity.
Seite 98 - Had we but world enough, and time This coyness, lady, were no crime. We would sit down and think which way To walk, and pass our long love's day. Thou by the Indian Ganges...
Seite 92 - Thou tread'st upon enchanted ground ; Perils and snares beset thee round : Beware of all ; guard every part ; But most the traitor in thy heart. 5 Come, then, my soul ! now learn to wield The weight of thine immortal shield ; Put on the armor from above Of heavenly truth, and heavenly love.
Seite 90 - Thus sung they, in the English boat, An holy and a cheerful note ; And all the way, to guide their chime, With falling oars they kept the time.
Seite 100 - Of all these meadows fresh and gay; And in the greenness of the grass Did see its hopes as in a glass; When Juliana came, and she What I do to the grass, does to my thoughts and me.
Seite 87 - But Sylvio soon had me beguiled: This waxed tame, while he grew wild, And quite regardless of my smart, Left me his Fawn, but took his Heart. Thenceforth I set myself to play My solitary time away With this, and very well content Could so mine idle life have spent.
Seite 99 - twas born Round in itself incloses, And in its little globe's extent Frames as it can its native element; How it the purple flower does slight, Scarce touching where it lies, But gazing back upon the skies, Shines with a mournful light Like its own tear, Because so long divided from the sphere.
Seite 86 - Else men are made their deodands. Though they should wash their guilty hands In this warm life-blood, which doth part From thine and wound me to the heart, Yet could they not be clean — their stain Is dyed in such a purple grain ; There is not such another in The world, to offer for their sin.

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