The Works of the British Poets: With Lives of the Authors, 第 5 卷

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Mitchell, Ames, and White, 1819
 

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第 330 頁 - TO BLOSSOMS FAIR pledges of a fruitful tree, Why do ye fall so fast ? Your date is not so past ; But you may stay yet here awhile, To blush and gently smile; And go at last.
第 344 頁 - By a daisy, whose leaves spread, Shut when Titan goes to bed ; Or a shady bush or tree, She could more infuse in me, Than all Nature's beauties can In some other wiser man. By her help I also now Make this churlish place allow Some things that may sweeten gladness, In the very gall of sadness. The dull loneness, the black shade, That these hanging vaults have made ; The strange music of the waves, Beating on these hollow caves ; This black den which rocks emboss, Overgrown with eldest moss : The...
第 117 頁 - saw the grave where Laura lay, Within that temple where the vestal flame Was wont to burn ; and passing by that way, To see that buried dust of living fame, Whose tomb fair Love and fairer Virtue kept, All suddenly I saw the Faery Queen, At whose approach the soul of Petrarch wept...
第 346 頁 - I, though great she be? Great, or good, or kind, or fair, I will ne'er the more despair, If she love me, this believe, I will die, ere she shall grieve. If she slight me when I woo, I can scorn, and let her go.
第 330 頁 - Since ghost there is none to affright thee. Let not the dark thee cumber ; What though the moon does slumber? The stars of the night Will lend thee their light, Like tapers clear without number. Then, Julia, let me woo thee, Thus, thus to come unto me ; And when I shall meet Thy silvery feet, My soul I'll pour into thee.
第 22 頁 - SWEET bird, that sing'st away the early hours Of winters past, or coming, void of care, Well pleased with delights which present are; Fair seasons, budding sprays, sweet-smelling flowers, To rocks, to springs, to rills, from leafy bowers, Thou thy Creator's goodness dost declare, And what dear gifts on thee he did not spare. A stain to human sense in sin that lowers. What soul can be so sick, which by thy songs...
第 327 頁 - The higher he's a-getting, The sooner will his race be run, And nearer he's to setting. That age is best which is the first, When youth and blood are warmer; But being spent, the worse and worst Times still succeed the former. Then be not coy, but use your time, And while ye may, go...
第 330 頁 - Twas pity Nature brought ye forth Merely to show your worth, And lose you quite. But you are lovely leaves, where we May read how soon things have Their end, though ne'er so brave: And after they have shown their pride Like you, awhile, they glide Into the grave.
第 345 頁 - Turtle-dove or pelican, If she be not so to me, What care I how kind she be...
第 329 頁 - FAIR Daffodils, we weep to see You haste away so soon: As yet the early-rising Sun Has not attained his noon. Stay, stay, Until the hasting day Has run But to the even-song; And, having prayed together, we Will go with you along. We have short time to stay, as you, We have as short a Spring; As quick a growth to meet decay As you, or any thing. We die, As your hours do, and dry Away Like to the Summer's rain; Or as the pearls of morning's dew, Ne'er to be found again.

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