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Page 123 - Gul in her bloom? Where the citron and olive are fairest of fruit, And the voice of the nightingale never is mute, Where the tints of the earth, and the hues of the sky, In colour though varied, in beauty may vie, And the purple of Ocean is deepest in dye; Where the virgins are soft as the roses they twine, And all, save the spirit of man, is divine? 'Tis the clime of the East; 'tis the land of the Sun— Can he smile on such deeds as his children have done ? Oh! wild as the accents of lovers...
Page 145 - I stuff my skin so full within Of jolly good ale and old. Back and side go bare, go bare; Both foot and hand go cold; But, belly, God send thee good ale enough, Whether it be new or old.
Page 133 - Redressing injury, revenging wrong. To aid the damsel and destroy the caitiff; Opposing singly the united strong. From foreign yoke to free the helpless native; — Alas!
Page 279 - Whom the gods love die young' was said of yore, And many deaths do they escape by this: The death of friends, and that which slays even more — The death of friendship, love, youth, all that is, Except mere breath ; and since the silent shore Awaits at last even those who longest miss The old archer's shafts, perhaps the early grave Which men weep over may be meant to save.
Page 145 - And Tib, my wife, that as her life Loveth well good ale to seek, Full oft drinks she till ye may see The tears run down her cheek: Then doth she trowl to me the bowl Even as a maltworm should, And saith, ' Sweetheart, I took my part Of this jolly good ale and old.
Page 253 - Close by those meads, for ever crown'd with flow'rs, Where Thames with pride surveys his rising tow'rs, There stands a structure of majestic frame, Which from the neighb'ring Hampton takes its name. Here Britain's statesmen oft the fall foredoom...
Page 277 - Fate urged the shears, and cut the sylph in twain (But airy substance soon unites again). The meeting points the sacred hair dissever From the fair head, for ever and for ever! Then flashed the living lightning from her eyes, And screams of horror rend th
Page 144 - I cannot eat but little meat, My stomach is not good ; But sure I think, that I can drink With him that wears a hood : Though I go bare, take ye no care ; I nothing am a-cold : I stuff my skin so full within Of jolly good ale and old.
Page 31 - Oh ! rather give me commentators plain. Who with no deep researches vex the brain ; Who from the dark and doubtful love to run, And hold their glimmering tapers to the sun ; Who simple truth with nine-fold reasons back, And guard the point no enemies attack.