The Hesperides & Noble Numbers, Volumen 1

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Routledge, 1898 - 420 páginas

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Página 102 - 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 marry : For having lost but once your prime 20Q.
Página 74 - To Dianeme. SWEET, be not proud of those two eyes, Which, star-like, sparkle in their skies ; Nor be you proud that you can see All hearts your captives, yours yet free ; Be you not proud of that rich hair, Which wantons with the love-sick air; When as that ruby which you wear, Sunk from the tip of your soft ear, Will last to be a precious stone, When all your world of beauty's gone.
Página 82 - And sung their thankful hymns ; 'tis sin, Nay, profanation to keep in, When as a thousand virgins on this day Spring, sooner than the lark, to fetch in May.
Página 220 - 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. What, were ye born to be An hour or half's delight, And so to bid good-night?
Página 130 - Speak, whimpering younglings, and make known The reason why Ye droop and weep; Is it for want of sleep, Or childish lullaby? Or that ye have not seen as yet The violet?
Página 3 - I write of Hell. I sing (and ever shall) Of Heaven, and hope to have it after all.
Página 156 - 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.
Página 118 - Away in easie slumbers. Ease my sick head, And make my bed, Thou power that canst sever From me this ill, And quickly still, Though thou not kill, My fever. Thou sweetly canst convert the same From a consuming fire, Into a gentle-licking flame, And make it thus expire. Then make me weep My paines asleep, And give me such reposes, That I, poore I, May think thereby, I live and die 'Mongst roses.
Página 83 - Or branch : each porch, each door ere this An ark, a tabernacle is, Made up of white-thorn neatly interwove; As if here were those cooler shades of love. Can such delights be in the street And open fields and we not see't ? Come, we'll abroad ; and let's obey The proclamation made for May: And sin no more, as we have done, by staying ; But, my Corinna, come, let's go a-Maying. There's not a budding boy or girl this day But is got up, and gone to bring in May. A deal of youth, ere this, is come Back,...
Página 135 - BID me to live, and I will live Thy Protestant to be, Or bid me love, and I will give A loving heart to thee.

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