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appears bear beauty best fits birds blow breast breath bright called cold comes dead dear death deep dost doth earth Epigram eyes face fair fall fear fire flowers give glory gone grace grave green grow hand hast hath head hear heart heaven Honour hope keep King land leaves light lines live look Love's lover meet mind morning move never night notes o'er once pain pass past peace play poem poor Queen rest roses round sigh sight sing sleep smiles SONG soon soul sound spirit spring stars stay sweet tears tell thee thine things THOMAS thou thou art thought tree true unto verse voice waves weep winds wings young youth
Стр. 60 - Come away, come away, death, And in sad cypress let me be laid ; Fly away, fly away, breath ; I am slain by a fair cruel maid. My shroud of white, stuck all with yew, O, prepare it ! My part of death, no one so true Did share it.
Стр. 72 - A HYMN TO GOD THE FATHER. w ILT Thou forgive that sin where I begun, Which was my sin, though it were done before ? Wilt Thou forgive that sin, through which I run And do run still, though still I do deplore ? When Thou hast done, Thou hast not done ; For I have more.
Стр. 200 - SHE was a Phantom of delight When first she gleamed upon my sight; A lovely Apparition, sent To be a moment's ornament; Her eyes as stars of Twilight fair; Like Twilight's, too, her dusky hair; But all things else about her drawn From May-time and the cheerful Dawn; A dancing Shape, an Image gay, To haunt, to startle, and way-lay.
Стр. 75 - QUEEN and huntress, chaste and fair, Now the sun is laid to sleep, Seated in thy silver chair, State in wonted manner keep: Hesperus entreats thy light, Goddess, excellently bright! Earth, let not thy envious shade Dare itself to interpose: Cynthia's shining orb was made Heaven to clear when day did close: Bless us then with wished sight, Goddess, excellently bright!
Стр. 32 - Love in my bosom like a bee, Doth suck his sweet; Now with his wings he plays with me, Now with his feet. Within mine eyes he makes his nest, His bed amidst my tender breast, My kisses are his daily feast; And yet he robs me of my rest: Ah, wanton, will ye?
Стр. 220 - The spirits of your fathers Shall start from every wave ! For the deck it was their field of fame, And ocean was their grave : Where Blake and mighty Nelson fell Your manly hearts shall glow, As ye sweep through the deep, While the stormy winds do blow ; While the battle rages loud and long, And the stormy winds do blow.
Стр. 146 - Going to the Wars Tell me not, sweet, I am unkind, That from the nunnery Of thy chaste breast and quiet mind To war and arms I fly. True, a new mistress now I chase, The first foe in the field; And with a stronger faith embrace A sword, a horse, a shield. 1 Imprisoned or caged. Yet this inconstancy is such As you too shall adore; I could not love thee, dear, so much, Loved I not honor more.
Стр. 236 - And on that cheek, and o'er that brow, So soft, so calm, yet eloquent, The smiles that win, the tints that glow, But tell of days in goodness spent, A mind at peace with all below, A heart whose love is innocent!
Стр. 55 - Philomel, with melody Sing in our sweet lullaby ; Lulla, lulla, lullaby, lulla, lulla, lullaby : Never harm, Nor spell nor charm, Come our lovely lady nigh ; So, good night, with lullaby.