What people are saying - Write a review
We haven't found any reviews in the usual places.
Other editions - View all
appear beauty born breath bright bring dark death delight died doth earth English eyes fair fall fancy fear feel field fire flame flowers give glory grace hand happy hast hath head heart heaven hell Herbert hill honour hope human keep kings Lady leaves less light lines live look Lord lost Milton mind move Muse nature never night once Paradise passion plays pleasure poems poet poetic poetry praise present published rest rose round seems sense shades side sight sing sleep song soon soul spirits spring stars sweet tears tell thee things thou thought till tree true verse winds wings wonder write youth
Page 315 - And bring all heaven before mine eyes. And may at last my weary age Find out the peaceful hermitage, The hairy gown and mossy cell, Where I may sit and rightly spell Of every star that heaven doth shew, And every herb that sips the dew, Till old experience do attain To something like prophetic strain.
Page 218 - Some men with swords may reap the field, And plant fresh laurels where they kill ; But their strong nerves at last must yield ; They tame but one another still : Early or late They stoop to fate, And must give up their murmuring breath, When they, poor captives, creep to death.
Page 218 - The glories of our blood and state Are shadows, not substantial things ; There is no armour against fate ; Death lays his icy hand on kings : Sceptre and crown Must tumble down, And in the dust be equal made : With the poor crooked scythe and spade.
Page 309 - Where throngs of knights and barons bold, In weeds of peace, high triumphs hold, With store of ladies, whose bright eyes Rain influence, and judge the prize Of wit or arms, while both contend To win her grace, whom all commend.
Page 178 - Why so pale and wan, fond lover? Prithee, why so pale? Will, when looking well can't move her, Looking ill prevail? Prithee, why so pale?
Page 337 - He scarce had ceased when the superior Fiend Was moving toward the shore ; his ponderous shield, Ethereal temper, massy, large, and round, Behind him cast. The broad circumference Hung on his shoulders like the moon, whose orb Through optic glass the Tuscan artist views At evening, from the top of Fesole, Or in Valdarno, to descry new lands, Rivers, or mountains, in her spotty globe.
Page 309 - Sometimes with secure delight The upland hamlets will invite, When the merry bells ring round, And the jocund rebecks sound To many a youth and many a maid Dancing in the chequer'd shade...
Page 307 - Haste thee, Nymph, and bring with thee Jest, and youthful jollity, Quips, and cranks, and wanton wiles, Nods, and becks, and wreathed smiles Such as hang on Hebe's cheek, And love to live in dimple sleek; Sport that wrinkled Care derides, And Laughter holding both his sides...
Page 301 - I am now indebted, as being a work not to be raised from the heat of youth, or the vapours of wine, like that which flows at waste from the pen of some vulgar amourist, or the trencher fury of a rhyming parasite ; nor to be obtained by the invocation of dame Memory and her siren daughters ; but by devout prayer to that eternal spirit, who can enrich with all utterance and knowledge, and sends out his seraphim with the hallowed fire of his altar to touch and purify the lips of whom he pleases...