The Poems of Winthrop Mackworth Praed, Volume 1W. J. Widdleton, 1865 |
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Page 12
... round ; And learn that ( treat it as you will ) Our life must be a mockery still . Alas ! the same caprices reign In courtly hall , or tented plain ; And the same follies are reveal'd In ball - room , and in battle - field . Turn to yon ...
... round ; And learn that ( treat it as you will ) Our life must be a mockery still . Alas ! the same caprices reign In courtly hall , or tented plain ; And the same follies are reveal'd In ball - room , and in battle - field . Turn to yon ...
Page 18
... instead of Priscian's , And seek in death and conflagration A gradus to thy reputation . Yet , when the war is loud and high , Thine old mistakes will round thee fly ; And still , in spite of all thy care , 18 THE EVE OF BATTLE .
... instead of Priscian's , And seek in death and conflagration A gradus to thy reputation . Yet , when the war is loud and high , Thine old mistakes will round thee fly ; And still , in spite of all thy care , 18 THE EVE OF BATTLE .
Page 30
... round , And music's most inviting sound Swells on mine ear ; the glances fly , And love and folly flutter high , And ... rounded with a Statue's grace ; And ringlets wave , and beauteous feet Swifter than lightning part and meet ; Frowns ...
... round , And music's most inviting sound Swells on mine ear ; the glances fly , And love and folly flutter high , And ... rounded with a Statue's grace ; And ringlets wave , and beauteous feet Swifter than lightning part and meet ; Frowns ...
Page 33
... round , he greets , With nod and simper , all he meets : - " Ah ! ha ! your Lordship ! is it you ? Still slave to Beauty and beaux yeux ? Well ! well ! —and how's the gout , my Lord ? ———- My dear Sir Charles ! upon my word L'air de ...
... round , he greets , With nod and simper , all he meets : - " Ah ! ha ! your Lordship ! is it you ? Still slave to Beauty and beaux yeux ? Well ! well ! —and how's the gout , my Lord ? ———- My dear Sir Charles ! upon my word L'air de ...
Page 40
... round ! I'll act the spy Upon his fatal courtesy , Which always gives the greatest pain , Where most it strives to entertain . " Edward ! my boy ! an age has pass'd , Methinks , since Reuben saw you last ; How fares the Abbey ? and the ...
... round ! I'll act the spy Upon his fatal courtesy , Which always gives the greatest pain , Where most it strives to entertain . " Edward ! my boy ! an age has pass'd , Methinks , since Reuben saw you last ; How fares the Abbey ? and the ...
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Common terms and phrases
April fools Araminta Athens Ball beam beauteous beauty beneath bliss bloom blush Boodle's bowers breast breath bright brow charming cheek cold dance dark dear dream E'en earth Epigrams Eton eyes faded fair falchion fame fancy fear FEBRUARY 14 feel flowers folly fond fool forget friends frown gaze glance gone gout grace grave grief hair hand hath haunted ground heart Heaven hope hour Lady laugh Laura light lips lonely look Lord lover lute lyre Marriage mirth Muse never night nymph o'er pain palæstra pale Peyrouse quadrille rapture rhyme rose round royal sail shine sigh silent sing sleep smile song sorrow soul sweet tale talk tears tell thee thine thou thought throng to-day to-night tomb Valentine's Day voice wandering wave weep whispered whist young youth γὰρ δὲ ἐν καὶ τε τὸν
Popular passages
Page 148 - She smiled on many just for fun — I knew that there was nothing in it ; I was the first, the only one Her heart had thought of for a minute ; I knew it, for she told me so, In phrase which was divinely moulded; She wrote a charming hand, and oh ! How sweetly all her notes were folded ! Our love was like most other loves — A little glow, a little shiver ; A rosebud and a pair of gloves, And
Page 196 - Has hurried me off to the Po, Forget not Medora Trevilian: My own Araminta, say 'No!' We parted ! but sympathy's fetters Reach far over valley and hill; I muse o'er your exquisite letters, And feel that your heart is mine still; And he who would share it with me, love, — The richest of treasures below, — If he's not what Orlando should be, love, My own Araminta, say 'No!
Page 146 - Heaven, her dancing ! Dark was her hair, her hand was white ; Her voice was exquisitely tender ; Her eyes were full of liquid light ; I never saw a waist so slender ! Her every look, her every smile, Shot right and left a score of arrows ; I thought 'twas Venus from her isle, And wondered where she'd left her sparrows.
Page 226 - And striking for the pocket; Now feasting on a cheese and flitch, — Now drinking from the pewter; Now leaping over Chalvey ditch, Now laughing at my tutor. Where are my friends? I am alone; No playmate shares my beaker : Some lie beneath the churchyard stone, And some — before the Speaker...
Page 420 - Fling high the flambeau's light ; And sing the hymn for a parted soul, Beneath the silent night ! The wreath upon his head, The cross upon his breast, Let the prayer be said, and the tear be shed : So — take him to his rest ! Call ye my Whole...
Page 97 - Ah ! then and there was hurrying to and fro, And gathering tears, and tremblings of distress, And cheeks all pale, which but an hour ago Blushed at the praise of their own loveliness; And there were sudden partings, such as press The life from out young hearts, and choking sighs Which ne'er might be repeated...
Page 146 - Little. Through sunny May, through sultry June, I loved her with a love eternal; I spoke her praises to the moon, I wrote them to the Sunday Journal.
Page 195 - Miss Lane, at her Temple of Fashion, Taught us both how to sing and to speak, And we loved one another with passion, Before we had been there a week: You gave me a ring for a token; I wear it wherever I go; I gave you a chain, — is -it broken? My own Araminta, say
Page 137 - SOME years ago, ere Time and Taste Had turned our parish topsy-turvy, When Darnel Park was Darnel Waste, And roads as little known as scurvy, The man who lost his way between St. Mary's Hill and Sandy Thicket, Was always shown across the Green, And guided to the Parson's wicket. Back flew the bolt of lissom lath ; Fair Margaret in her tidy kirtle, Led the lorn traveller up the path, Through...
Page 404 - But still the lady shook her head, And swore by yea and nay, My whole was all that he had said, And all that he could say.