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Seite 332 - I communed with mine own heart, saying, Lo, I am come to great estate, and have gotten more wisdom than all they that have been before me in Jerusalem : yea, my heart had great experience of wisdom and knowledge. And I gave my heart to know wisdom, and to know madness and folly : I perceived that this also is vexation of spirit. For in much wisdom is much grief : and he that increaseth knowledge increaseth sorrow.
Seite 213 - The night drave on wi' sangs and clatter; And ay the ale was growing better: The landlady and Tam grew gracious, Wi' favours, secret, sweet, and precious: The Souter tauld his queerest stories; The landlord's laugh was ready chorus: The storm without might rair and rustle, Tam did na mind the storm a whistle. Care, mad to see a man sae happy, E'en drown'd himsel amang the nappy: As bees flee hame wi' lades o' treasure, The minutes wing'd their way wi' pleasure: Kings may be blest, but Tam was glorious,...
Seite 343 - The moon shines bright : — In such a night as this, When the sweet wind did gently kiss the trees, And they did make no noise...
Seite 295 - O mistress mine, where are you roaming ? O stay and hear ; your true love's coming, That can sing both high and low : Trip no further, pretty sweeting ; Journeys end in lovers meeting, Every wise man's son doth know. What is love? 'tis not hereafter; Present mirth hath present laughter ; What's to come is still unsure : In delay there lies no plenty ; Then come kiss me, sweet...
Seite 173 - To bid me not to love, Is to forbid my pulse to move, My beard to grow, my ears to prick up, Or (when I'm in a fit) to hickup.
Seite 117 - Wel coude he fortunen the ascendent Of his images for his patient. He knew the cause of every maladie, Were it of cold, or hote, or moist, or drie...
Seite 332 - Vanity of vanities, saith the Preacher, vanity of vanities; all is vanity. What profit hath a man of all his labour which he taketh under the sun?
Seite 262 - BALM of my cares, sweet solace of my toils, Hail, Juice benignant ! O'er the costly cups Of riot-stirring wine, unwholesome draught, Let Pride's loose sons prolong the wasteful night ; My sober evening let the tankard bless, With toast embrown'd, and fragrant nutmeg fraught, While the rich draught with oft-repeated whiffs Tobacco mild improves.