A Household Book of English Poetry |
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Стр. 19
Such fate ere long will thee betide , When thou hast handled been a while ; Like sere flowers to be thrown aside ;And I will sigh , while some will smile , To see thy love for more than one Hath brought thee to be loved by none .
Such fate ere long will thee betide , When thou hast handled been a while ; Like sere flowers to be thrown aside ;And I will sigh , while some will smile , To see thy love for more than one Hath brought thee to be loved by none .
Стр. 36
20 25 30 Which in his height of pride , King Henry to deride , His ransom to provide To the King sending ; Which he neglects the while , As from a nation vile , Yet with an angry smile , Their fall portending .
20 25 30 Which in his height of pride , King Henry to deride , His ransom to provide To the King sending ; Which he neglects the while , As from a nation vile , Yet with an angry smile , Their fall portending .
Стр. 45
5 IO I weigh not fortune's frown or smile ; I joy not much in earthly joys ; I seek not state , I seek not style ; I am not fond of fancy's toys ; I rest so pleased with what I have , I wish no more , no more I crave .
5 IO I weigh not fortune's frown or smile ; I joy not much in earthly joys ; I seek not state , I seek not style ; I am not fond of fancy's toys ; I rest so pleased with what I have , I wish no more , no more I crave .
Стр. 49
IO Can I , who have for others oft compiled The songs of death , forget my sweetest child , Which , like the flower crusht , with a blast is dead , And ere full time hangs down his smiling head , Expecting with clear hope to live anew ...
IO Can I , who have for others oft compiled The songs of death , forget my sweetest child , Which , like the flower crusht , with a blast is dead , And ere full time hangs down his smiling head , Expecting with clear hope to live anew ...
Стр. 51
... Death's servile emissaries are ; Nor to these alone confined , He hath at will More quaint and subtle ways to kill ; A smile or kiss , as he will use the art , 15 Shall have the cunning skill to break a heart . James Shirley .
... Death's servile emissaries are ; Nor to these alone confined , He hath at will More quaint and subtle ways to kill ; A smile or kiss , as he will use the art , 15 Shall have the cunning skill to break a heart . James Shirley .
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appear bear beauty beneath bird breath bright clear clouds cold dark dead dear death deep doth dream earth English eyes face fair fall fear flow flowers give glory gone grace grave green grow hand happy hast hath head hear heart heaven hope hour John King land leaves less light lines live look Lord mind morn mother nature never night o'er once passed peace pleasure poem poet praise rest rise rose round seemed seen shine sight sing sleep smile song soon sorrow soul sound spirit spring stand stars sweet tears tell thee thine things thou thought trees true turn voice waves weep wild wind woods youth