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ancient asked bear beauty Bells better Bishop bright bring called Church City Court crown dance dark death Democritus devil divine drink Edition England Enter eyes face fair Father fire flowers fool friends gentle give gold grace grave hand happy head hear heard heart heaven holy honor hope hour House John keep King land learning leave light live London look Lord Master Mayor meet merry mind morning nature never night nose once pass play poor present Puck Pumpkin Quaker Queen replied rich rise Robin Robin Hood round royal says Scene sing song soon sorrow soul spirit Stand stars sweet tears tell thee thing thou thought thro true truth Tuneful turn Uncle Timothy voice
Page 76 - I do love these ancient ruins. We never tread upon them but we set Our foot upon some reverend history ; And, questionless, here in this open court, Which now lies naked to the injuries Of stormy weather, some men lie...
Page 235 - London, to thee I do present the merry month of May; Let each true subject be content to hear me what I say: For from the top of conduit-head, as plainly may appear, I will both tell my name to you, and wherefore I came here. My name is Ralph, by due descent though not ignoble I, Yet far inferior to the flock of gracious grocery...
Page 32 - What judgment I had, increases rather than diminishes ; and thoughts, such as they are, come crowding in so fast upon me, that my only difficulty is to choose or to reject ; to run them into verse, or to give them the other harmony of prose.
Page 290 - Of every hearer; for it so falls out That what we have we prize not to the worth Whiles we enjoy it, but being lack'd and lost, Why, then we rack the value, then we find The virtue that possession would not show us Whiles it was ours.
Page 32 - I think myself as vigorous as ever in the faculties of my soul, excepting only my memory, which is not impaired to any great degree; and if I lose not more of it, I have no great reason to complain. What...
Page 35 - Lives of great men all remind us We may make our lives sublime, And, departing, leave behind us Footprints on the sands of time ; Footprints, that perhaps another, Sailing o'er life's solemn main, A forlorn and shipwrecked brother, Seeing, may take heart again.
Page 32 - Spenser more than once insinuates that the soul of Chaucer was transfused into his body, and that he was begotten by him two hundred years after his decease.