The English Poets: Selections, Volume 2Thomas Humphry Ward Macmillan, 1880 |
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Page 10
... crown of stars , Through which her orient hair waves to her waist , By which believing mortals hold her fast , And in those golden cords are carried even , Till with her breath she blows them up to heaven . She wears a robe enchased ...
... crown of stars , Through which her orient hair waves to her waist , By which believing mortals hold her fast , And in those golden cords are carried even , Till with her breath she blows them up to heaven . She wears a robe enchased ...
Page 11
... crown the holiday . Third Nymph . Drop , drop you violets , change your hues Now red , now pale , as lovers use , And in your death go out as well , As when you lived unto the smell : That from your odour all may say , This is the ...
... crown the holiday . Third Nymph . Drop , drop you violets , change your hues Now red , now pale , as lovers use , And in your death go out as well , As when you lived unto the smell : That from your odour all may say , This is the ...
Page 17
... crown enough to virtue still , her own applause What though the greedy fry Be taken with false baits Of worded balladry , And think it poësy ? They die with their conceits , And only piteous scorn upon their folly waits . 16 ' That ...
... crown enough to virtue still , her own applause What though the greedy fry Be taken with false baits Of worded balladry , And think it poësy ? They die with their conceits , And only piteous scorn upon their folly waits . 16 ' That ...
Page 48
... crown The head of Bacchus ; nuts more brown Than the squirrel's teeth that crack them ; Deign , O fairest fair , to take them ! For these black - eyed Dryope Hath oftentimes commanded me With my clasped knee to climb : See how well the ...
... crown The head of Bacchus ; nuts more brown Than the squirrel's teeth that crack them ; Deign , O fairest fair , to take them ! For these black - eyed Dryope Hath oftentimes commanded me With my clasped knee to climb : See how well the ...
Page 63
... Crowns may flourish and decay , Beauties shine , but fade away . Youth may revel , yet it must Lie down in a bed of dust . Earthly honours flow and waste , Time alone doth change and last . Sorrows mingled with contents prepare Rest for ...
... Crowns may flourish and decay , Beauties shine , but fade away . Youth may revel , yet it must Lie down in a bed of dust . Earthly honours flow and waste , Time alone doth change and last . Sorrows mingled with contents prepare Rest for ...
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Common terms and phrases
Absalom and Achitophel admirable beauty Ben Jonson born breast breath bright Carew Castara Catullus charm Comus conceits Cowley death delight died dost doth Dryden earth EDMUND W English English poetry eyes fair fame fancy fate fear fire flame Fletcher flowers Giles Fletcher glory grace hand happy hast hath heart heaven hell Herbert heroic couplet Herrick Hesperides hill honour Hudibras Inner Temple Jonson king kiss Lady light live Lord Lover's Melancholy Lycidas Milton mind mistress Muse nature never night numbers o'er Paradise Paradise Lost Paradise Regained passion Pastorals plays pleasure poems poet poetic poetry praise rose sacred shade shepherds shine sighs sight sing sleep SONG sonnet soul spirit spring stars sweet tears thee thine things thou thought unto verse Waller wanton weep winds wings Wither write youth
Popular passages
Page 311 - And bring all heaven before mine eyes. And may at last my weary age Find out the peaceful hermitage, The hairy gown and mossy cell, Where I may sit and rightly spell Of every star that heaven doth shew, And every herb that sips the dew, Till old experience do attain To something like prophetic strain.
Page 348 - Me miserable ! which way shall I fly Infinite wrath, and infinite despair ? Which way I fly is hell ; myself am hell ; And in the lowest deep a lower deep Still threatening to devour me opens wide ; To which the hell I suffer seems a heaven.
Page 10 - 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 333 - He scarce had ceased when the superior Fiend Was moving toward the shore ; his ponderous shield, Ethereal temper, massy, large, and round, Behind him cast. The broad circumference Hung on his shoulders like the moon, whose orb Through optic glass the Tuscan artist views At evening, from the top of Fesole, Or in Valdarno, to descry new lands, Rivers, or mountains, in her spotty globe.
Page 214 - The glories of our blood and state Are shadows, not substantial things ; There is no armour against fate ; Death lays his icy hand on kings : Sceptre and crown Must tumble down, And in the dust be equal made With the poor crooked scythe and spade.
Page 174 - Why so pale and wan, fond lover? Prithee, why so pale? Will, when looking well can't move her, Looking ill prevail? Prithee, why so pale?
Page 450 - Of these the false Achitophel was first, A name to all succeeding ages curst: For close designs and crooked counsels fit, Sagacious, bold, and turbulent of wit; Restless, unfixed in principles and place, In power unpleased, impatient of disgrace ; A fiery soul, which working out its way, Fretted the pigmy body to decay, And o'er-informed the tenement of clay.
Page 297 - I am now indebted, as being a work not to be raised from the heat of youth, or the vapours of wine, like that which flows at waste from the pen of some vulgar amourist, or the trencher fury of a rhyming parasite ; nor to be obtained by the invocation of dame Memory and her siren daughters ; but by devout prayer to that eternal spirit, who can enrich with all utterance and knowledge, and sends out his seraphim with the hallowed fire of his altar to touch and purify the lips of whom he pleases...
Page 353 - The birds their quire apply ; airs, vernal airs, Breathing the smell of field and grove, attune The trembling leaves, while universal Pan, Knit with the Graces and the Hours in dance, Led on the eternal spring.
Page 320 - Fame is the spur that the clear spirit doth raise (That last infirmity of noble mind) To scorn delights, and live laborious days : But the fair guerdon when we hope to find, And think to burst out into sudden blaze, Comes the blind Fury with the abhorred shears And slits the thin-spun life. But not the praise...