Reuben Apsley, Volume 2

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H. Colburn, 1827

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Page 303 - Enlarged winds, that curl the flood, Know no such liberty. Stone walls do not a prison make, Nor iron bars a cage; Minds innocent and quiet take That for an hermitage; If I have freedom in my love And in my soul am free, Angels alone, that soar above, Enjoy such liberty.
Page 183 - You will now execute his vengeance on the heathen ; you will bind their kings in chains, and their nobles in fetters of iron.
Page 58 - FAINT amorist! what, dost thou think To taste love's honey, and not drink One dram of gall ? or to devour A world of sweet, and taste no sour ? Dost thou ever think to enter Th' Elysian fields, that dar'st not venture In Charon's barge ? a lover's mind Must use to sail with every wind. He that loves, and fears to try, Learns his mistress to deny. Doth she chide thee ? 'tis to show it That thy coldness makes her do it.
Page 228 - Were't in mortals' power to do. She doth tell me where to borrow Comfort in the midst of sorrow ; Makes the desolatest place To her presence be a grace ; And the blackest discontents Be her fairest ornaments.
Page 228 - I saw I could some invention draw, And raise pleasure to her height, Through the meanest object's sight. By the murmur of a spring, Or the least bough's...
Page 180 - As the apple tree among the trees of the wood, So is my beloved among the sons. I sat down under his shadow with great delight. And his fmil was sweet to my taste.
Page 22 - OF HER CHAMBER THEY taste of death, that do at heaven arrive; But we this paradise approach alive. Instead of Death, the dart of Love does strike: And renders all within these walls alike; The high in titles, and the shepherd here Forgets his greatness, and forgets his fear. All stand amazed, and gazing on the fair Lose thought of what themselves or others are; Ambition lose : and have no other...
Page 159 - And lovers' songs shall turn to holy psalms : A man at arms must now sit on his knees, And feed on prayers that are old age's alms. And so from court to cottage I depart: My saint is sure of mine unspotted heart.
Page 115 - Tannton, the pen where the sheep to be slaughtered lay thickest, he declared openly in his charge that it would not be his fault if he did not depopulate the place.
Page 159 - My golden locks time hath to silver turn'd, (Oh time too swift, and swiftness never ceasing,) My youth 'gainst age, and age at youth hath spurn'd: But spurn'd in vain, youth waneth by increasing ; Beauty, strength, and youth, flowers fading been; Duty, faith, and love, are roots and evergreen. My helmet now shall make a hive for bees, And lovers...

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