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Страница lxiv - For do but note a wild and wanton herd, Or race of youthful and unhandled colts, Fetching mad bounds, bellowing and neighing loud, Which is the hot condition of their blood; If they but hear perchance a trumpet sound, Or any air of music touch their ears, You shall perceive them make a mutual stand, Their savage eyes turn'd to a modest gaze By the sweet power of music...
Страница 64 - ON A GIRDLE THAT which her slender waist confined Shall now my joyful temples bind : No monarch but would give his crown His arms might do what this has done. It was my Heaven's extremest sphere, The pale which held that lovely deer : My joy, my grief, my hope, my love Did all within this circle move. A narrow compass ! and yet there Dwelt all that's good, and all that's fair : Give me but what this ribband bound, Take all the rest the Sun goes round.
Страница 195 - For then we know how vain it was to boast Of fleeting things, so certain to be lost. Clouds of affection from our younger eyes Conceal that emptiness which age descries. The soul's dark cottage, battered and decayed, Lets in new light through chinks that Time has made: Stronger by weakness, wiser men become As they draw near to their eternal home. Leaving the old, both worlds at once they view That stand upon the threshold of the new.
Страница xxii - High as the Mother of the Gods in place, And proud, like her, of an immortal race. Then, when in pomp she makes the Phrygian round, With golden turrets on her temples crown'd; A hundred gods her sweeping train supply; Her offspring all, and all command the sky.
Страница 32 - Phoebus' self might use ! Such is the chase when Love and Fancy leads, O'er craggy mountains, and through flowery meads; Invok'd to testify the lover's care, Or form some image of his cruel fair.
Страница 274 - ... much declined by fair ladies, old age : may she live to be very old, and yet seem young, be told so by her glass, and have no aches to inform her of the truth : and when she shall appear to be mortal, may her Lord not mourn for her, but go hand in hand with her to that place where we are told there is neither marrying nor giving in marriage, that being there divorced we may all have an equal interest in her again.
Страница 26 - Seems to have practised with much care, To frame the race of women fair; Yet never could a perfect birth Produce before to grace the earth, Which waxed old ere it could see Her that amazed thy art and thee.
Страница 61 - Heav'n seem'd to frame And measure out this only dame. Thrice happy is that humble pair, Beneath the level of all care ! Over whose heads those arrows fly Of sad distrust and jealousy ; Secured in as high extreme, As if the world held none but them.