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Strana 79 - Particularly with a tiresome friend: Sweet is old wine in bottles, ale in barrels; Dear is the helpless creature we defend Against the world: and dear the schoolboy spot We ne'er forget, though there we are forgot. CXXVII But sweeter still than this, than these, than all, Is first and passionate love— it stands alone, Like Adam's recollection of his fall...
Strana 88 - A something, light as air — a look, A word unkind or wrongly taken — Oh ! love, that tempests never shook, A breath, a touch like this hath shaken.
Strana 15 - But I have lived, and have not lived in vain: My mind may lose its force, my blood its fire, And my frame perish even in conquering pain; But there is that within me which shall tire Torture and Time, and breathe when I expire...
Strana 123 - O, beware, my lord, of jealousy ; It is the green-eyed monster, which doth mock The meat it feeds on...
Strana 33 - I doubt it is going — yes— my valour is certainly going ! — it is sneaking off ! — I feel it oozing out as it were at the palms of my hands ! Sir Luc.
Strana 78 - O Woman ! in our hours of ease, Uncertain, coy, and hard to please, And variable as the shade By the light quivering aspen made, When pain and anguish wring the brow, A ministering angel thou ! — Scarce were the piteous accents said, When, with the Baron's casque, the maid To the nigh streamlet ran.
Strana 25 - Man's love is of man's life a thing apart, "Tis woman's whole existence; man may range The court, camp, church, the vessel, and the mart; Sword, gown, gain, glory, offer in exchange Pride, fame, ambition, to fill up his heart, And few there are whom these cannot estrange; Men have all these resources, we but one, To love again, and be again undone.
Strana 29 - Their breath is agitation, and their life A storm whereon they ride, to sink at last, And yet so nursed and bigoted to strife, That should their days surviving perils past, Melt to calm twilight, they feel overcast With sorrow and supineness, and so die; Even as a flame unfed, which runs to waste With its own flickering, or a sword laid by, Which eats into itself, and rusts ingloriously.
Strana 16 - ... vain : My mind may lose its force, my blood its fire, And my frame perish even in conquering pain ; But there is that within me which shall tire Torture and Time, and breathe when I expire ; Something unearthly, which they deem not of, Like the remembered tone of a mute lyre, Shall on their softened spirits sink, and move In hearts all rocky now the late remorse of Love.
Strana 79 - But sweeter still than this, than these, than all, Is first and passionate love — it stands alone, Like Adam's recollection of his fall ; The tree of knowledge has been...