The Works of George Peele, Volume 2

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John C. Nimmo, 1888
 

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Page 300 - O time too swift, O swiftness never ceasing! His youth gainst time and age hath ever spurned, But spurned in vain; youth waneth by increasing; Beauty, strength, youth are flowers but fading seen; Duty, faith, love are roots, and ever green. His helmet now shall make a hive for bees; And, lovers...
Page 82 - And he shall be as the light of the morning, when the sun riseth, even a morning without clouds; as the tender grass springing out of the earth by clear shining after rain.
Page 9 - Now comes my Lover tripping like the Roe, And brings my longings tangled in her hair. To joy her love I'll build a kingly bower. Seated in hearing of a hundred streams...
Page 63 - Israelite, Friend him with deeds, and touch no hair of him, — Not that fair hair with which the wanton winds Delight to play, and love to make it curl ; Wherein the nightingales would build their nests, And make sweet bowers in every golden tress To sing their lover every night asleep ; — O, spoil not, Joab, Jove's ' fair ornaments, Which he hath sent to solace David's soul...
Page 82 - Although my house be not so with God; yet He hath made with me an everlasting covenant, ordered in all things, and sure: for this is all my salvation, and all my desire, although He make it not to grow.
Page 300 - And feed on prayers, which are age his alms; But though from court to cottage he depart, His saint is sure of his unspotted heart. And when he saddest sits in homely cell, He'll teach his swains this carol for a song: Blest be the hearts that wish my sovereign well, Cursed be the souls that think her any wrong!
Page 236 - Stukely, and the rest, Adieu. To arms, to arms, to glorious arms ! With noble Norris, and victorious Drake, Under the sanguine cross, brave England's badge, To propagate religious piety And hew a passage with your conquering swords By land and sea, wherever Phoebus...
Page 237 - Sea and land Lie open to the voyage you intend ; And sea or land, bold Britons, far or near, Whatever course your matchless virtue shapes, Whether to Europe's bounds or Asian plains, To Afric's shore, or rich America, Down to the shades of deep Avernus' crags, Sail on, pursue your honours to your graves.

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