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afterwards beauties became birds born breast breath bright Cambridge cause Charles cold death delight died doth earth educated eyes face fair fear flowers gave give grace green hand happy hast hath head hear heart heaven hill honour James John keep kind king knew lady land leave live London look Lord lost maid meet merry mind morn move neighbours never night notes nought o'er old cap old courtier once Oxford pale play pleasure poems poor present Queen received returned rise rose round sent sing sleep sometimes song soon soul sound sport spring stream sweet Tell thee things thou thought thousand took turns unto voice wind wine wood young courtier youth
Página 154 - 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.
Página 180 - Does straight its own resemblance find; Yet it creates, transcending these, Far other worlds, and other seas; Annihilating all that's made To a green thought in a green shade. Here at the fountain's sliding foot, Or at some fruit-tree's mossy root, Casting the body's vest aside, My soul into the boughs does glide: There like a bird it sits, and sings, Then whets and claps its silver wings; And, till prepared for longer flight, Waves in its plumes the various light.
Página 107 - IF all the world and love were young, And truth in every shepherd's tongue, These pretty pleasures might me move To live with thee and be thy love.
Página 126 - 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.
Página 142 - 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?
Página 181 - TWAS at the royal feast for Persia won By Philip's warlike son: Aloft in awful state The godlike hero sate On his imperial throne...
Página 134 - Get up, get up for shame ! the blooming morn Upon her wings presents the god unshorn. See how Aurora throws her fair Fresh-quilted colours through the air: Get up, sweet slug-a-bed, and see The dew bespangling herb and tree. Each flower has wept, and bow'd toward the east. Above an hour since ; yet you not drest, Nay ! not so much as out of bed ? When all the birds have matins said, And sung their thankful hymns : 'tis sin, Nay, profanation, to keep in, — Whenas a thousand virgins on this day,...
Página 61 - With how sad steps, O Moon, thou climb'st the skies ; How silently ; and with how wan a face ! What ! may it be, that even in heavenly place That busy Archer his sharp arrows tries ? Sure, if that long-with-love-acquainted eyes Can judge of love, thou feel'st a lover's case ; I read it in thy looks ; thy languisht grace To me, that feel the like, thy state descries...
Página 21 - PERSOUN of a toun ; But riche he was of holy thought and werk. He was also a lerned man, a clerk, That Cristes gospel trewely wolde preche ; His parisshens devoutly wolde he teche.