Effigies Poeticae, Or, The Portraits of the British Poets: Illustrated by Notes Biographical, Critical, and Poetical

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J. Carpenter and Son, 1824 - 112 strani
 

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Stran 40 - Prison WHEN Love with unconfined wings Hovers within my gates, And my divine Althea brings To whisper at the grates — When I lie tangled in her hair And fettered to her eye, The birds that wanton in the air Know no such liberty.
Stran 33 - Out upon it, I have loved Three whole days together! And am like to love three more. If it prove fair weather. Time shall moult away his wings Ere he shall discover In the whole wide world again Such a constant lover. But the spite on 't is, no praise Is due at all to me: Love with me had made no stays.
Stran 26 - Than maids were wont to do, Yet who of late, for cleanliness, Finds sixpence in her shoe ? Lament, lament, old abbeys, The fairies lost command ; They did but change priests...
Stran 12 - And next in order sad Old Age we found, His beard all hoar, his eyes hollow and blind, With drooping cheer still poring on the ground, As on the place where nature him...
Stran 40 - Enlarged winds, that curl the flood, Know no such liberty. Stone walls do not a prison make, Nor iron bars a cage; Minds innocent and quiet take That for an hermitage; If I have freedom in my love And in my soul am free, Angels alone, that soar above, Enjoy such liberty.
Stran 49 - Thus Satan, talking to his nearest mate, With head up-lift above the wave, and eyes That sparkling blazed ; his other parts besides Prone on the flood, extended long and large, Lay floating many a rood ; in bulk as huge As whom the fables name of monstrous size, Titanian, or Earth-born, that warred on Jove ; Briareos or Typhon, whom the den By ancient Tarsus held ; or that sea-beast Leviathan, which God of all his works Created hugest that swim the ocean stream...
Stran 102 - SWEET maid, if thou would'st charm my sight, And bid these arms thy neck infold ; That rosy cheek, that lily hand, • Would give thy poet more delight Than all Bocara's vaunted gold, Than all the gems of Samarcand.
Stran 27 - How I do love thee, Beaumont, and thy muse, That unto me dost such religion use ! How I do fear myself, that am not worth The least indulgent thought thy pen drops forth...
Stran 86 - twas music to hear ; But now she is absent I walk by its side, And still, as it murmurs, do nothing but chide. Must you be so cheerful, while I go in pain? Peace there with your bubbling, and hear me complain.
Stran 27 - I oft have heard him say how he admired Men of your large profession, that could speak To every cause, and things mere contraries, Till they were hoarse again, yet all be law; That, with most quick agility, could turn, And re-turn; make knots, and undo them; Give forked counsel; take provoking gold On either hand, and put it up; these men, He knew, would thrive with their humility.

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