Old favourites from the elder poets, with a few newer friends, a selection by M. SharpeWilliams and Norgate, 1881 - 393 pages |
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Page 13
... feel no care of coin , Well - doing is my wealth ; My mind to me an empire is While Grace affordeth health . I clip high - climbing thoughts , The wings of swelling pride ; Their fall is worse that from the height Of greatest honour ...
... feel no care of coin , Well - doing is my wealth ; My mind to me an empire is While Grace affordeth health . I clip high - climbing thoughts , The wings of swelling pride ; Their fall is worse that from the height Of greatest honour ...
Page 25
... feel The dint of pity : these are gracious drops . Kind souls , what , weep you , when you but behold Our Cæsar's vesture wounded ? Look you here , Here is himself , marred , as you see , with traitors . Good friends , sweet friends ...
... feel The dint of pity : these are gracious drops . Kind souls , what , weep you , when you but behold Our Cæsar's vesture wounded ? Look you here , Here is himself , marred , as you see , with traitors . Good friends , sweet friends ...
Page 32
... brothers in exile , Hath not old custom made this life more sweet Than that of painted pomp ? Are not these woods More free from peril , than the envious court ? Here feel we but the penalty of Adam , The 32 [ 1564-1616 Shakespeare .
... brothers in exile , Hath not old custom made this life more sweet Than that of painted pomp ? Are not these woods More free from peril , than the envious court ? Here feel we but the penalty of Adam , The 32 [ 1564-1616 Shakespeare .
Page 33
Old favourites, Matilda Sharpe. Here feel we but the penalty of Adam , The seasons ' difference ; as the icy fang , And churlish chiding of the winter's wind ; Which , when it bites and blows upon my body , Even till I shrink with cold ...
Old favourites, Matilda Sharpe. Here feel we but the penalty of Adam , The seasons ' difference ; as the icy fang , And churlish chiding of the winter's wind ; Which , when it bites and blows upon my body , Even till I shrink with cold ...
Page 34
... feel my heart new opened . Oh , how wretched Is that poor man , that hangs on princes ' favours ! There is , betwixt that smile we would aspire to , That sweet aspect of princes , and our ruin , More pangs and fears than wars or women ...
... feel my heart new opened . Oh , how wretched Is that poor man , that hangs on princes ' favours ! There is , betwixt that smile we would aspire to , That sweet aspect of princes , and our ruin , More pangs and fears than wars or women ...
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Other editions - View all
Old Favourites from the Elder Poets, with a Few Newer Friends, a Selection ... Old Favourites No preview available - 2016 |
Common terms and phrases
Atrides beauty bird blessings blest bliss blow breast breath bright Brutus Cæsar charm cries crown dark death divine doth dread dreams e'en e'er Earl Earl Douglas Earl Percy earth Eurydice eyes fair fame fate fear fire flow flowers FRANCIS BEAUMONT gentle GEORGE WITHER give glory grace hand happy hast hath hear heart Heaven honour hope hour JOHN John Anderson Julius Cæsar king light live look Lord lyre meads of asphodel mighty heart mind morn mortal mourn Muse Nature's ne'er never night numbers nymph o'er pain Percy's Reliques pleasure praise pride rest rise round Samian wine shade shine sigh sight silent sing skies sleep smile soft SONG sorrow soul sound sweet Sylph tears tell thee thine things thought toil trembling Twas venison virtue voice weep wind wings youth
Popular passages
Page 36 - Tu-who, a merry note, While greasy Joan doth keel the pot. When all aloud the wind doth blow And coughing drowns the parson's saw And birds sit brooding in the snow And Marian's nose looks red and raw, When roasted...
Page 57 - It is not growing like a tree In bulk, doth make Man better be ; Or standing long an oak, three hundred year, To fall a log at last, dry, bald, and sere : A lily of a day Is fairer far in May, Although it fall and die that night — It was the plant and flower of Light. In small proportions we just beauties see ; And in short measures life may perfect be.
Page 167 - The applause of listening senates to command, The threats of pain and ruin to despise, To scatter plenty o'er a smiling land, And read their history in a nation's eyes, Their lot forbade : nor circumscribed alone Their growing virtues, but their crimes confined ; Forbade to wade through slaughter to a throne, And shut the gates of mercy on mankind...
Page 38 - EAR no more the heat o' the sun Nor the furious winter's rages ; Thou thy worldly task hast done, Home art gone and ta'en thy wages : Golden lads and girls all must, As chimney-sweepers come to dust. Fear no more the frown o' the great, Thou art past the tyrant's stroke; Care no more to clothe and eat; To thee the reed is as the oak : The sceptre, learning, physic, must All follow this, and come to dust.
Page 82 - Thus with the year Seasons return; but not to me returns Day, or the sweet approach of even or morn, Or sight of vernal bloom, or summer's rose, Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine...
Page 166 - Oft did the harvest to their sickle yield, Their furrow oft the stubborn glebe has broke ; How jocund did they drive their team afield ! How bow'd the woods beneath their sturdy stroke ! Let not Ambition mock their useful toil, Their homely joys, and destiny obscure ! Nor Grandeur hear with a disdainful smile The short and simple annals of the Poor.
Page 16 - The rest complains of cares to come. The flowers do fade, and wanton fields To wayward Winter reckoning yields: A honey tongue, a heart of gall, Is fancy's spring, but sorrow's fall.
Page 26 - Caesar lov'd him ! This was the most unkindest cut of all ; For, when the noble Caesar saw him stab, Ingratitude, more strong than traitors...
Page 153 - Peace to all such! but were there one whose fires True genius kindles, and fair fame inspires ; Blest with each talent and each art to please, And born to write, converse, and live with ease: Should such a man, too fond to rule alone, Bear, like the Turk, no brother near the throne, View him with scornful, yet with jealous eyes...
Page 40 - Desiring this man's art, and that man's scope, With what I most enjoy contented least; Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising, Haply I think on thee, and then my state, Like to the lark at break of day arising From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven's gate: For thy sweet love remembered such wealth brings, That then I scorn to change my state with kings.