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admiration ancient appears Ariosto beauty better called Catiline celebrated character chess church death delight Dublin effect England English fair fancy favour feel feet flowers French garden gaze genius give Greek Guy's Cliff hand happy head heart Heaven Hesiod Homeridae honour hope hour human imagination Ireland King lady light live London look Lord lover Martyr of Antioch Megabyzus mind Mont Blanc mountain nature never night o'er object observed once palace Paraclete passed passion perhaps person Petrarch Plato play pleasure poem poet poetical poetry population possess present racter reader round Sallanche scene seems sentiment shew side smile song SONNET soul spirit Sweden sweet taste Terpander thee thing thou thought tion town trees Vaud Velant verses Vilkina Saga Voltaire whole young youth
Page 238 - Saturn laugh'd and leap'd with him. Yet nor the lays of birds nor the sweet smell Of different flowers in odour and in hue Could make me any summer's story tell...
Page 495 - Sweet Day, so cool, so calm, so bright, The bridal of the earth and sky, The dew shall weep thy fall to-night ; For thou must die. Sweet Rose, whose hue, angry and brave, Bids the rash gazer wipe his eye, Thy root is ever in its grave, And thou must die. Sweet Spring, full of sweet days and roses, A box where sweets compacted lie, My music shows ye have your closes, And all must die.
Page 354 - Twere now to be most happy, for I fear My soul hath her content so absolute That not another comfort like to this Succeeds in unknown fate.
Page 485 - The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together : our virtues would be proud if our faults whipped them not; and our crimes would despair if they were not cherished by our virtues.
Page 241 - When all our fathers worshipped stocks and stones, Forget not : in thy book record their groans Who were thy sheep, and in their ancient fold Slain by the bloody Piedmontese, that rolled Mother with infant down the rocks. Their moans The vales redoubled to the hills and they To heaven.
Page 108 - Between the acting of a dreadful thing And the first motion, all the interim is Like a phantasma, or a hideous dream : The genius, and the mortal instruments, Are then in council; and the state of man, Like to a little kingdom, suffers then The nature of an insurrection.
Page 241 - God's trophies, and his work pursued, While Darwen stream, with blood of Scots imbrued; And Dunbar field, resounds thy praises loud. And Worcester's laureate wreath : yet much remains To conquer still ; Peace hath her victories No less renowned than War: new foes arise, Threatening to bind our souls with secular chains. Help us to save free conscience from the paw Of hireling wolves, whose Gospel is their maw.
Page 242 - Rescued from death by force though pale and faint. Mine as whom washed from spot of childbed taint, Purification in the old law did save, And such, as yet once more I trust to have Full sight of her in heaven without restraint, Came vested all in white, pure as her mind: Her face was veiled, yet to my fancied sight, Love, sweetness, goodness in her person shined So clear, as in no face with more delight. But O as to embrace me she inclined I waked, she fled, and day brought back my night.
Page 535 - Straight mine eye hath caught new pleasures Whilst the landscape round it measures; Russet lawns, and fallows gray, Where the nibbling flocks do stray; Mountains, on whose barren breast The labouring clouds do often rest ; Meadows trim with daisies pied, Shallow brooks, and rivers wide: Towers and battlements it sees Bosom'd high in tufted trees, Where perhaps some Beauty lies, The Cynosure of neighbouring eyes.