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Houghton Mifflin, 1904
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Page 19 - The lonely mountains o'er and the resounding shore a voice of weeping heard and loud lament ; from haunted spring and dale edged with poplar pale the parting Genius is with sighing sent; with flower-inwoven tresses torn the nymphs in twilight shade of tangled thickets mourn.
Page 302 - If to do were as easy as to know what were^ good to do, chapels had been churches, and poor men's cottages princes' palaces. It is a good divine that follows his own instructions: I can easier teach twenty what were good to be done, than be one of the twenty to follow mine own teaching.
Page 265 - This castle hath a pleasant seat ; the air Nimbly and sweetly recommends itself Unto our gentle senses. BAN. This guest of summer, The temple-haunting martlet, does approve By his loved mansionry that the heaven's breath Smells wooingly here : no jutty, frieze, Buttress, nor coign of vantage, but this bird Hath made his pendent bed and procreant cradle : Where they most breed and haunt, I have observed The air is delicate.
Page 32 - For so have I seen a lark rising from his bed of grass, and soaring upwards, singing as he rises, and hopes to get to heaven, and climb above the clouds ; but the poor bird was beaten back with the loud sighings of an eastern wind, and his motion made irregular and inconstant, descending more at every breath of the tempest, than it could recover by the...
Page 7 - Till, like the certain wands of Jacob's wit, Their verses tallied. Easy was the task : A thousand handicraftsmen wore the mask Of Poesy. Ill-fated, impious race ! That blasphemed the bright Lyrist to his face, And did not know it, no, they went about, Holding a poor, decrepit standard out, Marked with most flimsy mottoes, and in large The name of one Boileau...
Page 284 - Time, thou shalt not boast that I do change ! Thy pyramids built up with newer might To me are nothing novel, nothing strange ; They are but dressings of a former sight. Our dates are brief, and therefore we admire What thou dost foist upon us that is old, And rather make them born to our desire Than think that we before have heard them told. Thy registers and thee I both defy, Not wondering at the present nor the past...
Page 263 - When proud-pied April dressed in all his trim Hath put a spirit of youth in everything', That heavy Saturn laughed and leaped 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, Or from their proud lap pluck them where they grew; Nor did I wonder at the...
Page 298 - I loved Ophelia: forty thousand brothers Could not with all their quantity of love, Make up my sum.
Page 130 - Why, what should be the fear? I do not set my life at a pin's fee; And for my soul, what can it do to that, Being a thing immortal as itself?
Page 30 - The feverish air fann'd by a cooling breeze, The fruitful vales set round with shady trees ; And guiltless men, who danced away their time, Fresh as their groves, and happy as their clime.

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