Poems: Miscellanies, The Mistress, Pindarique Odes, Davideis, Verses Written on Several Occasions, Količina 1

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University Press, 1905 - 466 strani
 

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Stran 361 - And Jonathan stripped himself of the robe that was upon him, and gave it to David, and his garments, even to his sword, and to his bow, and to his girdle.
Stran 216 - And all the host of heaven shall be dissolved, and the heavens shall be rolled together as a scroll: and all their host shall fall down, as the leaf falleth off from the vine, and as a falling fig from the fig tree.
Stran 217 - I beheld when he had opened the sixth seal, and, lo, there was a great earthquake ; and the sun became black as sackcloth of hair, and the moon became as blood ; and the stars of heaven fell unto the earth, even as a fig tree casteth her untimely figs, when she is shaken of a mighty wind.
Stran 49 - Elisha-like (but with a wish much less, More fit thy greatness, and my littleness) Lo here I beg (I whom thou once didst prove So humble to esteem, so good to love) Not that thy spirit might on me doubled be, I ask but half thy mighty spirit for me ; And when my muse soars with so strong a wing, 'Twill learn of things divine, and first of thee to sing.
Stran 41 - If I should tell the politic arts To take and keep men's hearts ; The letters, embassies, and spies, The frowns, and smiles, and flatteries, The quarrels, tears, and perjuries, Numberless, nameless...
Stran 51 - THE thirsty earth soaks up the rain, And drinks and gapes for drink again; The plants suck in the earth and are With constant drinking fresh and fair...
Stran 344 - Awake, awake, my Lyre ! And tell thy silent master's humble tale In sounds that may prevail ; Sounds that gentle thoughts inspire : Though so exalted she And I so lowly be Tell her, such different notes make all thy harmony.
Stran 34 - Ye fields of Cambridge, our dear Cambridge, say, Have ye not seen us walking every day? Was there a tree about which did not know The love betwixt us two? Henceforth, ye gentle trees, for ever fade ; Or your sad branches thicker join, And into darksome shades combine, Dark as the grave wherein my friend is laid...
Stran 57 - Thou dost drink, and dance, and sing, Happier than the happiest king! All the fields which thou dost see, All the plants belong to thee; All that summer hours produce, Fertile made with early juice. Man for thee does sow and plough; Farmer he, and landlord thou!
Stran 88 - I descend to the grave May I a small house and large garden have; And a few friends, and many books, both true, Both wise, and both delightful too!

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