The Works of Thomas Love Peacock: Maid Marian. Misfortunes of Elphin. Crotchet castle. Gryll grange

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R. Bentley and son, 1875

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Page 256 - The stars of midnight shall be dear To her; and she shall lean her ear In many a secret place Where rivulets dance their wayward round, And beauty born of murmuring sound Shall pass into her face.
Page 407 - Bring the rathe primrose that forsaken dies, The tufted crow-toe and pale jessamine, The white pink, and the pansy freaked with jet, The glowing violet, The musk-rose, and the well-attired woodbine, With cowslips wan that hang the pensive head, And every flower that sad embroidery wears ; Bid Amaranthus all his beauty shed, And daffadillies fill their cups with tears, To strew the laureate hearse where Lycid lies.
Page 432 - Two urns by Jove's high throne have ever stood, The source of evil one, and one of good ; From thence the cup of mortal man he fills, Blessings to these, to those distributes ills ; To most, he mingles both : the wretch decreed To taste the bad unmix'd, is curs'd indeed ; Pursued by wrongs, by meagre famine driven, He wanders, outcast both of earth and heaven.
Page 407 - Gently o'er the accustomed oak ; Sweet bird, that shunn'st the noise of folly, Most musical, most melancholy ! Thee, chauntress, oft the woods among I woo, to hear thy even-song ; And, missing thee, I walk unseen On the dry smooth-shaven green...
Page 343 - Happy the man — and happy he alone, — He who can call to-day his own, He who, secure within, can say ' To-morrow, do thy worst, for I have lived to-day : Be fair or foul or rain or shine, The joys I have possessed in spite of Fate are mine, Not Heaven itself upon the Past has power, But what has been, has been, and I have had my hour...
Page 343 - Ille potens sui Laetusque deget, cui licet in diem Dixisse " Vixi : eras vel atra Nube polum Pater occupato, Vel sole puro ; non tamen irritum, 45 Quodcumqi e retro est, efficiet, neque Diffinget infectumque reddet Quod fugiens semel hora vexit.
Page 124 - twould win me That with music loud and long, I would build that dome in air, That sunny dome ! those caves of ice ! And all who heard should see them there, And all should cry, Beware ! Beware ! His flashing eyes, his floating hair ! "Weave a circle round him thrice, And close your eyes with holy dread, For he on honey-dew hath fed, And drunk the milk of Paradise.
Page 399 - Over the mountains And over the waves, Under the fountains And under the graves ; Under floods that are deepest, Which Neptune obey ; Over rocks that are steepest Love will find out the way.
Page 300 - Or let my lamp, at midnight hour, Be seen in some high lonely tower...
Page 365 - A man so various that he seemed to be Not one, but all mankind's epitome: Stiff in opinions, always in the wrong, Was everything by starts and nothing long; But in the course of one revolving moon Was chymist, fiddler, statesman, and buffoon ; Then all for women, painting, rhyming, drinking, Besides ten thousand freaks that died in thinking.

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