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Side 34 - With the swift pilgrim's daubed nest. The groves already did rejoice In Philomel's triumphing voice. The showers were short, the weather mild, The morning fresh, the evening smiled.
Side 126 - And nearer to the river's trembling edge 25 There grew broad flag-flowers, purple pranked with white ; And starry river buds among the sedge ; And floating water-lilies, broad and bright, Which lit the oak that overhung the hedge With moonlight beams of their own watery light ; 30 And bulrushes and reeds, of such deep green As soothed the dazzled eye with sober sheen.
Side 85 - Dear stream! dear bank, where often I Have sat and pleased my pensive eye, Why, since each drop of thy quick store Runs thither whence it flowed before, Should poor souls fear a shade or night, Who came, sure, from a sea of light?
Side 61 - Scylla meanwhile caught from out my hollow ship six of my company, the hardiest of their hands and the chief in might. And looking into the swift ship to find my men, even then I marked their feet and hands as they were lifted on high, and they cried aloud in their agony, and called me by my name for that last time of all.
Side 55 - All cover'd with a snaring bait, Alas, to tempt thee to thy fate, And dragge thee from the brooke. 0 harmless tenant of the flood, 1 do not wish to spill thy blood, For Nature unto thee Perchance hath given a tender wife, And children dear, to charm thy life, As she hath done for me. Enjoy thy stream, O harmless fish ; And when an angler for his dish, Through gluttony's vile sin, Attempts, a wretch, to pull thee out, God give thee strength, O gentle trout, To pull the raskall in I Dr.
Side 33 - And now all Nature seem'd in love, The lusty sap began to move; New juice did stir th' embracing Vines; And Birds had drawn their Valentines: The jealous Trout, that low did lie, Rose at a well-dissembled flie: There stood my Friend, with patient skill Attending of his trembling quill.
Side 55 - And dragge thee from the brooke, 0 harmless tenant of the flood, 1 do not wish to spill thy blood ; For Nature unto thee Perchance has given a tender wife, And children dear, to charme thy life, As she hath done to me. Enjoy thy streame, O harmless Fish...
Side 205 - The moving Finger writes, and having writ, Moves on ; nor all your piety nor wit Can lure it back to cancel half a line, Nor all your tears wipe out a word of it.