The Poetical Works of Thomas Carew

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H.G. Clarke, 1845 - 223 pages
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Page 131 - ASK me no more where Jove bestows, When June is past, the fading rose; For in your beauty's orient deep These flowers, as in their causes, sleep. Ask me no more whither do stray The golden atoms of the day; For in pure love heaven did prepare Those powders to enrich your hair. Ask me no more...
Page 16 - The snake each year fresh skin resumes, And eagles change their aged plumes; The faded rose each spring receives A fresh red tincture on her leaves : But if your beauties once decay, You never know a second May.
Page 71 - EPITAPH ON THE LADY MARY VILLIERS. The Lady Mary Villiers lies Under this stone : With weeping eyes The parents that first gave her birth, And their sad friends, laid her in earth : If any of them (reader) were Known unto thee, shed a tear : Or if thyself possess a gem, As dear to thee, as this to them. ; Though a stranger to this place, Bewail in theirs, thine own hard case ; For thou perhaps at thy return Mayst find thy darling in an urn.
Page 94 - O'rspred, was purg'd by thee; The lazie seeds Of servile imitation throwne away; And fresh Invention planted, Thou didst pay The debts of our penurious bankrupt age; Licentious thefts, that make...
Page 25 - Mediocrity in Love rejected GIVE me more love, or more disdain ; The torrid or the frozen zone Brings equal ease unto my pain ; The temperate affords me none : Either extreme of love or hate Is sweeter than a calm estate.
Page 32 - Twas I that gave thee thy renown ; Thou hadst in the forgotten crowd Of common beauties lived unknown, Had not my verse exhaled thy name, And with it imped the wings of fame. That killing power is none of thine, I gave it to thy voice and eyes; Thy sweets, thy graces, all are mine; Thou art my star, shin'st in my skies; '" Then dart not from thy borrowed sphere Lightning on him that fixed thee there.
Page 16 - And think, before the summer's spent, Of following winter; like the ant, In plenty hoard for time of scant. Cull out, amongst the multitude Of lovers, that seek to intrude Into your favour, one that may Love for an age, not for a day; One that will quench your youthful fires, And feed in age your hot desires.
Page xiii - Whose every hair a soul doth bind, Will change their auburn hue and grow White and cold as winter's snow. That eye, which now is Cupid's nest, Will prove his grave, and all the rest Will follow; in the cheek, chin, nose, Nor lily shall be found, nor rose.
Page 59 - CELIA SINGING. You that think love can convey No other way, But through the eyes, into the heart, His fatal dart, Close up those casements and but hear This siren sing, And on the wing Of her sweet voice it shall appear That love can enter at the ear. Then unveil your eyes, behold The curious mould Where that voice dwells, and as we know, When the cocks crow, We freely may Gaze on the day, So may you, when the music 's done, Awake and see the rising sun.
Page 94 - By ours was done the Greek or Latin tongue, Thou hast redeemed, and opened us a mine Of rich and pregnant fancy, drawn a line Of masculine expression...

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