 | John Dryden - 1909 - 1112 страници
...praise is yours, while you the passions move, That 't is no longer feign 'd, 't is real love, Where nature triumphs over wretched art; We only warm the...warm ! and if the rising year, As in hot regions, bring the sun too near, 'T is but to make your fragrant spices blow, Which in our colder climates will... | |
 | Herbert Wynford Hill - 1911 - 170 страници
...Such praise is yours, while you the Passions move, That 'tis no longer feign'd; 'tis real Love: Where Nature Triumphs over wretched Art; We only warm the...you warm! and if the rising Year, As in hot Regions, bring the Sun too near, 'Tis but to make your Fragrant Spices blow, Which in our colder Climates will... | |
 | William Andrews Clark Memorial Library Staff, William Andrews Clark Memorial Library, University of California, Los Angeles. Center for 17th- & 18th- Century Studies, University of California, Los Angeles, Center for 17th- & 18th- Century Studies Staff - 2004 - 370 страници
...Such praise is yours, while you the Passions move, That 'tis no longer feign'd; 'tis real Love: Where Nature Triumphs over wretched Art; We only warm the Head, but you the Heart.10 At once sincere in his admiration for Lee's 'Heroic' efforts and aware of their absurdity,... | |
 | 1802 - 456 страници
...Such praise is your's, while you the passions move, That 'tis no longer feign'd, 'tis real love, Where nature triumphs over wretched art ; We only warm the...warm ; and, if the rising year, As in hot regions, bring the sun too near, 'Tis but to make your fragrant spices blow,' Which in our colder climates will... | |
 | Eugen Kölbing, Johannes Hoops, Reinald Hoops - 1879 - 566 страници
...»Such praise is yours, while you the passions move, That 'tis no longer feign'd; 'tis real love, Where nature triumphs over wretched art: We only warm the...heart. Always you warm ! and if the rising year, As in bot regions, bring the sun too near, 'Tis but to make your fragrant spices blow, Which in our colder... | |
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tis no longer feigned, 'tis real love, Where nature triumphs over wretched art; We only warm the head, but you the heart. Always you warm! and if the rising year, As in hot regions, bring the 'sun too near, Tis but to make your fragrant spices blow, Which... 
