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Pagina 829 - To God, I wept, and said: Ah, when at last we lie with tranced breath, Not vexing Thee in death, And Thou rememberest of what toys We made our joys, How weakly understood Thy great commanded good, Then, fatherly not less Than I whom Thou hast moulded from the cky, Thou'lt leave Thy wrath, and say, 'I will be sorry for their childishness.
Pagina 175 - Flavia the least and slightest toy Can with resistless art employ. This Fan in meaner hands would prove An engine of small force in love ; But she, with such an air and mien, Not to be told or safely seen, Directs its wanton motions so, That it wounds more than Cupid's bow ; Gives coolness to the matchless dame, To every other breast a flame.
Pagina 32 - ... that sweet odour which doth in it live. The canker-blooms have full as deep a dye As the perfumed tincture of the roses, Hang on such thorns and play as wantonly When summer's breath their masked buds discloses : But, for their virtue only is their show, They live unwoo'd and unrespected fade, Die to themselves. Sweet roses do not so ; Of their sweet deaths are sweetest odours made : And so of you, beauteous and lovely youth, When that shall fade, my verse distils your truth.
Pagina 383 - There is no end of my kind treatment from the faculty ; they are in general the most amiable companions, and the best friends, as well as the most learned men, I know.
Pagina 11 - I therefore thought slow-paced — had changed my youth into manhood. But age and experience have taught me that those were but empty hopes ; for I have always found it true, as my Saviour did foretell, ' sufficient for the day is the evil thereof.' Nevertheless, I saw there a succession of boys using the same recreations, and, questionless, possessed with the same thoughts that then possessed me. Thus one generation succeeds another, both in their lives, recreations, hopes, fears, and death.
Pagina 177 - I HAVE no hopes," the duke he says, and dies; " In sure and certain hopes," the prelate cries: Of these two learned peers, I prithee, say, man, Who is the lying knave, the priest or layman ? The duke he stands an infidel confest, " He's our dear brother,
Pagina 145 - In greatness is no trust." Here's an acre sown indeed With the richest royal'st seed That the earth did e'er suck in, Since the first man died for sin; Here the bones of birth have cried, "Though gods they were, as men they died.
Pagina 1 - I have laboured to make a covenant with myself that affection may not press upon judgment ; for I suppose there is no man that hath any apprehension of gentry or nobleness, but his affection stands to the continuance of so noble a name and house, and would take hold of a twig or a twine thread to uphold it.
Pagina 334 - To watch the crisping ripples on the beach, And tender curving lines of creamy spray; To lend our hearts and spirits wholly To the influence of mild-minded melancholy; To muse and brood and live again in memory, With those old faces of our infancy Heap'd over with a mound of grass, Two handfuls of white dust, shut in an urn of brass!