The Works of the British Poets: With Prefaces, Biographical and Critical ...Robert Anderson Arch, 1795 |
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Page 13
... Whofe meads her arms drown , or whofe can o'er- flow . You , Sir , whofe righteoufnefs fhe loves , whom I , By having leave to ferve , am most richly For fervice paid authoriz'd , now begin To know and weed out this enormous fin . | All ...
... Whofe meads her arms drown , or whofe can o'er- flow . You , Sir , whofe righteoufnefs fhe loves , whom I , By having leave to ferve , am most richly For fervice paid authoriz'd , now begin To know and weed out this enormous fin . | All ...
Page 22
... Whofe fear already fhakes my every joint . Then as my foul to heav'n , her first feat , takes flight And earth - borne body in the earth fhall dwell , So fall my fins , that all may have their right , To where they're bred , and would ...
... Whofe fear already fhakes my every joint . Then as my foul to heav'n , her first feat , takes flight And earth - borne body in the earth fhall dwell , So fall my fins , that all may have their right , To where they're bred , and would ...
Page 54
... whofe fovereign boat The church and all the monarchies did float ; That fwimming college and free hofpital Of all mankind , that cage and vivary Of fowls and beats , in whole womb Destiny Us and our latet nephews did install , ( From ...
... whofe fovereign boat The church and all the monarchies did float ; That fwimming college and free hofpital Of all mankind , that cage and vivary Of fowls and beats , in whole womb Destiny Us and our latet nephews did install , ( From ...
Page 76
... whofe lofs we have lamented thus , Would work more fully and pow'rfully on us ; Since herbs and roots by dying lofe not all , But they , yea afhes too , are med'cinal , Death could not quench her virtue fo , but that It would be ( if ...
... whofe lofs we have lamented thus , Would work more fully and pow'rfully on us ; Since herbs and roots by dying lofe not all , But they , yea afhes too , are med'cinal , Death could not quench her virtue fo , but that It would be ( if ...
Page 79
... whofe complexion was fo even made , That which of her ingredients fhould invade The other three no fear , no art , could guefs , So far were all remov'd from more or lefs : But as in Mithridate or just perfumes , Where all good things ...
... whofe complexion was fo even made , That which of her ingredients fhould invade The other three no fear , no art , could guefs , So far were all remov'd from more or lefs : But as in Mithridate or just perfumes , Where all good things ...
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Common terms and phrases
againſt beauty becauſe beft beſt blood breaft caft caufe cauſe courſe death defire doft doth earth elfe eyes fafe faid fair fame fcorn fear feek feem feem'd feen fenfe fhall fhame fhepherd fhew fhine fhould fide fighs fight filk filver fince fing fire firft firſt flain fleep fome fong foon forrow foul fpirits fpring ftand ftate ftill ftreams ftrong fuch fure fwain fweet glory grace grief hand hath heart heav'n himſelf honour itſelf king laft laſt lefs light live loft Lord lov'd moft moſt mufe muft muſt never night nymphs pleaſe pleaſure pow'r praiſe prefent reft rife ſhall ſhe ſpeak ſpent ſtand ſtate ſtay ſtill ſuch ſweet tears thee thefe themſelves theſe thine things thofe thoſe thou thought thouſand unto uſe verfe virtue Whilft whofe whoſe worfe
Popular passages
Page 537 - Drink to me only with thine eyes, And I will pledge with mine; Or leave a kiss but in the cup And I'll not look for wine. The thirst that from the soul doth rise Doth ask a drink divine; But might I of Jove's nectar sup, I would not change for thine.
Page 536 - While we can, the sports of love. Time will not be ours for ever, He, at length, our good will sever; Spend not then his gifts in vain. Suns that set may rise again: But if once we lose this light, 'Tis with us perpetual night.
Page 590 - IF I freely may discover What would please me in my lover, I would have her fair and witty, Savouring more of court than city ; A little proud, but full of pity ; Light and humorous in her toying ; Oft...
Page 533 - The applause, delight, the wonder of our stage! My Shakespeare, rise; I will not lodge thee by Chaucer, or Spenser, or bid Beaumont lie A little further to make thee a room; Thou art a monument, without a tomb, And art alive still, while thy book doth live And we have wits to read and praise to give.
Page 33 - When my grave is broke up again Some second guest to entertain (For graves have learned that womanhead To be to more than one a bed), And he that digs it spies A bracelet of bright hair about the bone...
Page 543 - No, Both wills were in one stature ; And as that wisdom had decreed, The Word was now made Flesh indeed, And took on him our nature. What comfort by Him do we win, Who made Himself the price of sin, To make us heirs of Glory ! To see this babe, all innocence, A martyr born in our defence : Can man forget this...
Page 590 - Though I am young and cannot tell Either what Death or Love is well, Yet, I have heard they both bear darts, And both do aim at human hearts : And then again, I have been told, Love wounds with heat, as Death with cold ; So that I fear they do but bring Extremes to touch, and mean one thing. As in a ruin we it call One thing to be blown up or fall ; Or to our end, like way may have By...
Page 30 - To move, but doth, if th' other do. And though it in the centre sit, Yet, when the other far doth roam, It leans, and hearkens after it, And grows erect, as that comes home. Such wilt thou be to me, who must, Like th' other foot, obliquely run; Thy firmness makes my circle just, And makes me end where I begun.
Page 23 - Must to thy motions lovers' seasons run? Saucy pedantic wretch, go chide Late schoolboys and sour prentices; Go tell court-huntsmen that the king will ride, Call country ants to harvest offices; Love, all alike, no season knows nor clime, Nor hours, days, months, which are the rags of time.
Page 518 - Seven years thou wert lent to me, and I thee pay, Exacted by thy fate, on the just day. O, could I lose all father, now! For why Will man lament the state he should envy? To have so soon 'scaped world's and flesh's rage, And, if no other misery, yet age! Rest in soft peace; and, asked, say: Here doth lie Ben Jonson his best piece of poetry...