The Life and Times of Sir Philip Sidney (Google eBook)

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J.B. Ford and Company, 1875 - 286 pages
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Page 213 - Now therein of all sciences I speak still of human, and according to the human conceit is our poet the monarch. For he doth not only show the way, but giveth so sweet a prospect into the way as will entice any man to enter into it. Nay, he doth, as if your journey should lie through a fair vineyard, at the very first give you a cluster of grapes, that full of that taste you may long to pass further.
Page 234 - LEAVE ME, O LOVE Leave me, O love which reachest but to dust, And thou, my mind, aspire to higher things. Grow rich in that which never taketh rust: Whatever fades but fading pleasure brings. Draw in thy beams, and humble all thy might To that sweet yoke where lasting freedoms be; Which breaks the clouds and opens forth the light That doth both shine and give us sight to see.
Page 209 - Only the poet, disdaining to be tied to any such subjection, lifted up with the vigor of his own invention, doth grow, in effect, into another nature, in making things either better than nature bringeth forth, or, quite anew, forms such as never were in nature...
Page 214 - I never heard the old song of Percy and Douglas that I found not my heart moved more than with a trumpet...
Page 4 - UNDERNEATH this sable hearse Lies the subject of all verse, SIDNEY'S sister, PEMBROKE'S mother ; Death ! ere thou hast slain another, Learn'd and fair, and good as she, Time shall throw a dart at thee.
Page 210 - ... such as never were in nature, as the heroes, demi-gods, cyclops, chimeras, furies, and such like; so as he goeth hand in hand with nature, not enclosed within the narrow warrant of her gifts, but freely ranging within the zodiac of his own wit.
Page 130 - O, what a noble mind is here o'erthrown! The courtier's, soldier's, scholar's, eye, tongue, sword; The expectancy and rose of the fair state, The glass of fashion and the mould of form, The observed of all observers, quite, quite down!
Page 228 - 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...
Page 106 - Now you shall have three ladies walk to gather flowers, and then we must believe the stage to be a garden. By and by, we hear news of shipwreck in the same place, and then we are to blame if we accept it not for a rock.
Page 227 - STELLA, think not that I by verse seek fame, Who seek, who hope, who love, who live but thee; Thine eyes my pride, thy lips mine history : If thou praise not, all other praise is shame. Nor so ambitious am I, as to frame A nest for my young praise in laurel tree : In truth, I swear I wish not there should be Graved in my epitaph a Poet's name. Nor, if I would, could I just title make, That any laud thereof to me should grow, Without my plumes from others...

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