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Specimens with Memoirs of the Less-known British Poets, Volume 2
Limited preview - 2012
angels appear bear beasts beauty better blood born breath bright bring brought called clouds comes crown dark dead death deep delight dost doth earth eyes face fair fall fame fancy fear fire flame flowers give grace green ground grow hand hast hath head hear heart heaven hope keep kind King land leave less light live look Lord mind morning move nature ne'er never night o'er once pass poet poor praise rest rich rise rose seems shade shine sight sing soft song soon soul spirit spring stars sure sweet tears thee thine things thou thought till trees true truth unto waters Whilst whole wind wings wounds young youth
Page 21 - Ah BEN! Say how, or when Shall we thy guests Meet at those lyric feasts, Made at the Sun, The Dog, the Triple Tun ? Where we such clusters had, As made us nobly wild, not mad ; And yet each verse of thine Outdid the meat, outdid the frolic wine.
Page 263 - Love not the world, neither the things that are in the world. If any man love the world, the love of the Father is not in him. For all that is in the world, the lust of the flesh, and the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life, is not of the Father, but is of the world. And the world passeth away, and the lust thereof: but he that doeth the will of God abideth for ever.
Page 178 - Does straight its own resemblance find; Yet it creates, transcending these, Far other worlds, and other seas; Annihilating all that's made To a green thought in a green shade. Here at the fountain's sliding foot, Or at some fruit-tree's mossy root, Casting the body's vest aside...
Page 112 - Shall I wasting in Despair, Die because a woman's fair? Or make pale my cheeks with care, Cause another's rosy are? Be she fairer than the Day, Or the Flowery Meads in May; If she be not so to me, What care I, how fair she be.
Page 32 - Get up, get up for shame ! the blooming morn Upon her wings presents the god unshorn. See how Aurora throws her fair Fresh-quilted colours through the air: Get up, sweet slug-a-bed, and see The dew bespangling herb and tree. Each flower has wept, and bow'd toward the east. Above an hour since ; yet you not drest, Nay ! not so much as out of bed ? When all the birds have matins said, And sung their thankful hymns : 'tis sin, Nay, profanation, to keep in, — Whenas a thousand virgins on this day,...
Page 24 - Fair daffodils, we weep to see You haste away so soon: As yet the early-rising sun Has not attained his noon. Stay, stay, Until the hasting day Has run But to the evensong; And, having prayed together, we Will go with you along. » We have short time to stay as you; We have as short a spring; As quick a growth to meet decay, As you or anything.
Page 177 - Meanwhile the mind, from pleasure less, Withdraws into its happiness; The mind, that ocean where each kind Does straight its own resemblance find; Yet it creates, transcending these, Far other worlds, and other seas; Annihilating all that's made To a green thought in a green shade.
Page 32 - Come, my Corinna, come; and, coming, mark How each field turns a street, each street a park Made green and trimm'd with trees: see how Devotion gives each house a bough Or branch: each porch, each door, ere this An ark, a tabernacle is, Made up of white-thorn neatly interwove; As if here were those cooler shades of love.
Page 177 - Fair Quiet, have I found thee here, And Innocence, thy sister dear? Mistaken long, I sought you then In busy companies of men: Your sacred plants, if here below, Only among the plants will grow; Society is all but rude To this delicious solitude. No white nor red was ever seen So amorous as this lovely green. Fond lovers, cruel as their flame, Cut in these trees their mistress
Page 113 - Think what with them they would do That without them dare to woo ; And unless that mind I see, What care I how great she be ? Great, or good, or kind, or fair, I will ne'er the more despair: If she love me, this believe, I will die ere she shall grieve...