A Miscellaneous Collection of Poems, Songs and Epigrams, Volumes 1-2

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Thomas Mosse
A. Rhames, 1721 - English poetry

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Page 25 - Oh ! where shall I my true love find ? Tell me, ye jovial sailors, tell me true, Does my sweet William sail among the crew ?" William, who high upon the yard, Rock'd with the billows to and fro, Soon as her well-known voice he heard, He sigh'd, and cast his eyes below.
Page 198 - Who God doth late and early pray, More of his grace than gifts to lend ; And entertains the harmless day With a religious book or friend ; This man is freed from servile bands Of hope to rise, or fear to fall ; Lord of himself, though not of lands ; And having nothing, yet hath all.
Page 33 - That wave and glitter in the distant sun. When, if a sudden gust of wind arise, The brittle forest into atoms flies: The crackling wood beneath the tempest bends, And in a spangled...
Page 198 - Nor ruin make oppressors great; Who God doth late and early pray More of His grace than gifts to lend ; And entertains the harmless day With a religious book or friend.
Page 6 - But now she is gone, and has left me behind, What a marvellous change on a sudden I find ! When things were as fine as could possibly be, I thought 'twas the Spring; but alas ! it was she.
Page 8 - Come hither, poor fellow,' and patted his head. . But now, when he's fawning, I with a sour look, Cry. 'Sirrah!' and give him a blow with my crook: And I'll give him another; for why should not Tray Be as dull as his master, when Phebe's away ? When walking with Phebe, what sights have I seen!
Page 88 - Crcefus a flave (Tho' a king) to his coffers of gold ; He delighted in plentiful bowls ; But drinking much talk would decline, Becaufe 'twas the cuftom of fools To prattle much over their wine. Old Socrates ne'er was content, Till a bottle had heighten'd his joys, Who in's cups to the oracle went...
Page 37 - Strephon, choose a mate. From too exalted, or too mean a state ; For in both these we may expect to find A creeping spirit, or a haughty mind. Who moves within the middle region, shares The least disquiets, and the smallest cares.
Page 32 - The vast Leviathan wants room to play, And spout his waters in the face of day. The starving wolves along the main sea prowl, And to the moon in icy valleys howl.
Page 32 - Or winds begun through hazy skies to blow, At evening a keen eastern breeze arose, And the descending rain unsullied froze.

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