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Andrew Lang angler artist Bacon beauty become Benvenuto Cellini better Bore called carried cause century character civilisation clothes colour common course decoration effect endure English English elm expression fashion fiction fish flies flowers foliage forest forestry Franciscan friendship garden hand House human imagine Jock Scott kind labour lake land language leaves leisure less living London look Lord Madame Récamier matter means ment mind modern nature never object observed Opus ormolu ornament Parliament Pierre Desroches plants pool possessed probably Récamier river Roger Bacon rose Salmo ferox salmon Salmonida Scotland Scottish sound Speaker species speech stream suffer summer things thought thousand guineas tion tone town trees trout true truth vocables woman women wood woodland wych elm young
Page 273 - The slender acacia would not shake One long milk-bloom on the tree ; The white lake-blossom fell into the lake, As the pimpernel dozed on the lea ; But the rose was awake all night for your sake, Knowing your promise to me ; The lilies and roses were all awake, They sighed for the dawn and thee.
Page 162 - Charity suffereth long, and is kind ; charity envieth not ; charity vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up, Doth not behave itself unseemly, seeketh not her own, is, not easily provoked, thinketh no evil; Beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things.
Page 173 - Forgiveness to the injured does belong ; But they ne'er pardon who have done the wrong.
Page 46 - Sound, sound the clarion, fill the fife ! To all the sensual world proclaim, One crowded hour of glorious life Is worth an age without a name.
Page 155 - Fathom the vast abyss of heavenly justice. Whatever is, is in its causes just, Since all things are by fate. But purblind man Sees but a part o' th' chain, the nearest links, His eyes not carrying to that equal beam That poises all above.
Page 273 - There has fallen a splendid tear From the passion-flower at the gate, She is coming, my dove, my dear; She is coming, my life, my fate. The red rose cries, "She is near, she is near ;" And the white rose weeps, "She is late;" The larkspur listens, "I hear, I hear;" And the lily whispers, "I wait.
Page 121 - Will's coffeehouse, where the wits (as they were called) used formerly to assemble ; that is to say, five or six men, who had writ plays, or at least prologues, or had share in a miscellany, came thither, and entertained one another with their trifling composures, in so important an air, as if they had been the noblest efforts of human nature, or that the fate of kingdoms depended on them...
Page 271 - Dis's waggon ! daffodils, That come before the swallow dares, and take The winds of March with beauty ; violets, dim, But sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes, Or Cytherea's breath ; pale primroses, That die unmarried, ere they can behold Bright Phoebus in his strength, a malady Most incident to maids ; bold oxlips ; and The crown-imperial ; lilies of all kinds, The flower-de-luce being one ! O, these I lack, To make you garlands of; and, my sweet friend, To strew him o'er and o'er.
Page 161 - Is not a patron, My Lord, one who looks with unconcern on a man struggling for life in the water and, when he has reached ground, encumbers him with help? The notice which you have been pleased to take of my labours, had it been early, had been kind; but it has been delayed till I am indifferent and cannot enjoy it, till I am solitary and cannot impart it, till I am known and do not want it.