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Alfred Tennyson Art thou beauty beft beggars birds bluJhing breaft breath bright Bryan Waller Procter cheek Chloris dare dear death defire delight doth drink Earth Edmund Waller eyes faft fair figh fing firft flowers ftars ftay ftill ftreams George Darley golden grief hair happy Hark hath hear heart heaven Heigh Jhade Jhadows Jhall Jhepherds Jhine Jhould Jhow Jhowers Jleep John John Fletcher John Lyly John Webster kijfes kiss ladies laft lips love thee Love's lover Madr1gals MADRIGAL maid merry miftress mind moft morn mufic muft ne'er neft never night o'er Percy Bysshe Shelley pity play pretty reft Robert Herr1ck roses Say nay smile SONG sorrow soul Spring sweetly tears thine things Thomas Thomas Carew Thomas Lovell Beddoes thou art unto W1ll1am Shakespeare Walter Savage Landor weep wiJh wilt thou leave wind wine wings
Page 70 - Who God doth late and early pray More of his grace than gifts to lend; And entertains the harmless day With a religious book or friend — This man is freed from servile bands Of hope to rise or fear to fall: Lord of himself, though not of lands, And, having nothing, yet hath all.
Page 59 - Or the nard in the fire ? Or have tasted the bag of the bee ? O so white, O so soft, O so sweet is she!
Page 104 - 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.
Page 106 - ON A GIRDLE. That which her slender waist confined, Shall now my joyful temples bind ; No monarch but would give his crown His arms might do what this has done. It was my heaven's extremest sphere, The pale which held that lovely deer, My joy, my grief, my hope, my love, Did all within this circle move. A narrow compass, and yet there Dwelt all that's good and all that's fair; Give me but what this ribband bound, Take all the rest the sun goes round.
Page 114 - We have short time to stay, as you, We have as short a Spring; As quick a growth to meet decay As you, or any thing. We die, As your hours do, and dry Away Like to the Summer's rain; Or as the pearls of morning's dew, Ne'er to be found again.
Page 116 - GATHER ye rosebuds while ye may, Old Time is still a-flying: And this same flower that smiles to-day, To-morrow will be dying. The glorious lamp of heaven, the sun, The higher he's a-getting; The sooner will his race be run, And nearer he's to setting. That age is best, which is the first, When youth and blood are warmer; But being spent, the worse, and worst Times still succeed the former. Then be not coy, but use your time, And while ye may, go marry: For having lost but once your prime, You may...
Page 24 - Tell me where is fancy bred, Or in the heart or in the head? How begot, how nourished! Reply, reply. It is engendered in the eyes. With gazing fed ; and fancy dies In the cradle where it lies. Let us all ring fancy's knell : I'll begin it, — Ding, dong, bell.
Page 161 - And on that cheek, and o'er that brow, So soft, so calm, yet eloquent, The smiles that win, the tints that glow, But tell of days in goodness spent, A mind at peace with all below, A heart whose love is innocent ! THE HARP THE MONARCH MINSTREL SWEPT.