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ANACREON Andrew Barton Bacchus BALLAD beauty blessings bold bower bowl boys brave bumper call'd cheer claret Comus crown dame dear death delight Derry doth dragon DRAGON OF WANTLEY drank drink Earl Douglas Earl Percy England eyes fair fair lady fear fight foes friendship gallant give glass gold grace grave grief hand happy HARRY CAREY hast hath head heart Henry Here's honour hundred Johny Armstrong king lady land little Musgrave live lord maid merry mind mirth ne'er never night noble o'er old cap peace Percy pleasure poor pray prince queen quoth ride rose round sighs sing Sir Andrew slain SONG sorrow soul squire stormy winds Sweet William tears tell tempests thee thing thou art thou shalt true Twill unto vicar of Bray wife WILLIAM SHENSTONE winds do blow wine wise
Page 137 - Tell fortune of her blindness ; Tell nature of decay; Tell friendship of unkindness ; Tell justice of delay: And if they will reply, Then give them all the lie. Tell arts they have no soundness, But vary by esteeming ; Tell schools they want profoundness, And stand too much on seeming : If arts and schools reply, Give arts and schools the lie. Tell faith it's fled the city; Tell how the country erreth ; Tell manhood shakes off pity ; . Tell virtue least preferreth : And if they do reply, Spare not...
Page 135 - Say to the court it glows And shines like rotten wood ; Say to the church it shows What's good, and doth no good: If church and court reply, Then give them both the lie. "Tell potentates they live Acting by others' action; Not loved unless they give, Not strong but by a faction: If potentates reply, Give potentates the lie.
Page 215 - Her home is on the deep. With thunders from her native oak She quells the floods below, — As they roar on the shore, When the stormy tempests blow — When the battle rages loud and long, And the stormy winds do blow.
Page 216 - Toll for the brave ! Brave Kempenfelt is gone ; His last sea-fight is fought, His work of glory done. It was not in the battle ; No tempest gave the shock ; She sprang no fatal leak ; She ran upon no rock.
Page 108 - Some men with swords may reap the field, And plant fresh laurels where they kill: But their strong nerves at last must yield; They tame but one another still: Early or late They stoop to fate, And must give up their murmuring breath, When they, pale captives, creep to death. The garlands wither on your brow, Then boast no more your mighty deeds; Upon Death's purple altar now See, where the victor-victim bleeds: Your heads must come To the cold tomb; Only the actions of the just Smell sweet, and blossom...
Page 378 - Witness those rings and roundelays Of theirs, which yet remain, Were footed in Queen Mary's days On many a grassy plain; But since of late, Elizabeth And, later, James came in, They never danced on any heath As when the time hath been.
Page 19 - Busy, curious, thirsty fly, Drink with me and drink as I; Freely welcome to my cup, Couldst thou sip and sip it up: Make the most of life you may, Life is short and wears away. Both alike are mine and thine Hastening quick to their decline: Thine's a summer, mine's no more, Though repeated to threescore. Threescore summers, when they're gone, Will appear as short as one!
Page 214 - The spirits of your fathers Shall start from every wave ! — For the deck it was their field of fame, And Ocean was their grave : Where Blake and mighty Nelson fell, Your manly hearts shall glow, As ye sweep through the deep, While the stormy winds do blow...