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The University press, 1829
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Page 723 - Give me my scallop-shell of quiet, My staff of faith to walk upon. My scrip of joy, immortal diet, My bottle of salvation, My gown of glory, hope's true gage; And thus I'll take my pilgrimage.
Page 727 - EVEN such is time, that takes in trust Our youth, our joys, our all we have, And pays us but with earth and dust; Who, in the dark and silent grave, When we have wandered all our ways, Shuts up the story of our days; But from this earth, this grave, this dust, My God shall raise me up, I trust!
Page 708 - The flowers do fade, and wanton fields To wayward Winter reckoning yields: A honey tongue, a heart of gall, Is fancy's spring, but sorrow's fall. Thy gowns, thy shoes, thy beds of roses, Thy cap, thy kirtle, and thy posies, Soon break, soon wither — soon forgotten...
Page 583 - The Spirit of God hath made me, and the breath of the Almighty hath given me life.
Page 707 - Embroidered all with leaves of myrtle; A gown made of the finest wool Which from our pretty lambs we pull...
Page 718 - saw the grave where Laura lay, Within that temple where the vestal flame Was wont to burn ; and passing by that way, To see that buried dust of living fame, Whose tomb fair Love and fairer Virtue kept, All suddenly I saw the Faery Queen, At whose approach the soul of Petrarch wept ; And from thenceforth those graces were not seen, For they this Queen attended : in whose stead Oblivion laid him down on Laura's hearse...
Page 708 - A honey tongue, a heart of gall, Is fancy's spring, but sorrow's fall. Thy gowns, thy shoes, thy beds of roses, Thy cap, thy kirtle, and thy posies, Soon break, soon wither, soon forgotten: In folly ripe, in reason rotten. Thy belt of straw and ivy buds, Thy coral clasps and amber studs, All these in me no means can move To come to thee, and be thy love.
Page 717 - Discretion may perceive That Silence is a suitor. Silence in love bewrays more woe Than words, though ne'er so witty ; A beggar that is dumb, you know, Deserveth double pity? ! Then misconceive not, dearest heart ! My true, though secret, passion ; He smarteth most that hides his smart, And sues for no compassion ! A Vision upon the Fairy Queen.
Page 709 - Come live with me, and be my dear, And we will revel all the year, In plains and groves, on hills and dales, Where fragrant air breeds sweetest gales.
Page 724 - That, since my flesh must die so soon, And want a head to dine next noon, Just at the stroke, when my veins start and spread, Set on my soul an everlasting head!

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