Ancient Poetical Tracts of the Sixteenth Century

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Edward Francis Rimbault
Percy society, 1842 - English poetry - 82 pages

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Page 53 - Character of a Happy Life HOW happy is he born and taught That serveth not another's will; Whose armour is his honest thought, And simple truth his utmost skill ! Whose passions not his masters are; Whose soul is still prepared for death, Untied unto the world by care Of public fame or private breath; Who envies none that chance doth raise...
Page 55 - 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 59 - You violets that first appear, By your pure purple mantles known Like the proud virgins of the year, As if the spring were all your own ; What are you when the rose is blown ? So, when my mistress shall be seen In form and beauty of her mind, By virtue first, then choice, a Queen, Tell me, if she were not design'd Th...
Page 33 - So nothing in his maw? yet seemeth by his belt, That his gaunt gut no too much stuffing felt. Seest thou how side it hangs beneath his hip? Hunger and heavy iron makes girdles slip.
Page 61 - This is that sable stone, this is the cave And womb of earth, that doth his corpse embrace; While others sing his praise, let me engrave These bleeding numbers to adorn the place. Here will I paint the characters of woe; Here will I pay my tribute to the dead ; And here my faithful tears in showers shall flow To humanize the flints ou which I tread.
Page 56 - Accept those lines which from Thy goodness flow; And Thou, that wert Thy regal Prophet's muse, Do not Thy praise in weaker strains refuse ! Let these poor notes ascend unto Thy throne, Where majesty doth sit with mercy...
Page 58 - On his Mistress the Queen of Bohemia You meaner beauties of the night, That poorly satisfy our eyes More by your number than your light, You common people of the skies; What are you when the moon shall rise?
Page 51 - Sweet Benjamin, since thou art young, And hast not yet the use of tongue, Make it thy slave, while thou art free, Imprison it, lest it do thee.
Page 54 - 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...

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