The lyre of love [ed. by P.L. Courtier].

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Charles Whittingham, 1806
 

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Strana 29 - Since there's no help, come, let us kiss and part! Nay, I have done. You get no more of me! And I am glad, yea, glad with all my heart, That thus so cleanly I myself can free. Shake hands for ever! Cancel all our vows! And when we meet at any time again, Be it not seen in either of our brows That we one jot of former love retain.
Strana 43 - Take, oh take those lips away, That so sweetly were forsworn; And those eyes, the break of day, Lights that do mislead the morn; But my kisses bring again, bring again, Seals of love, but seal'd in vain.
Strana 44 - When lofty trees I see barren of leaves, Which erst from heat did canopy the herd, And summer's green all girded up in sheaves, Borne on the bier with white and bristly beard...
Strana 46 - Then hate me when thou wilt; if ever, now; Now, while the world is bent my deeds to cross, Join with the spite of fortune, make me bow, And do not drop in for an after-loss...
Strana 111 - Going to the Wars Tell me not, sweet, I am unkind, That from the nunnery Of thy chaste breast and quiet mind To war and arms I fly. True, a new mistress now I chase, The first foe in the field; And with a stronger faith embrace A sword, a horse, a shield. 1 Imprisoned or caged. Yet this inconstancy is such As you too shall adore; I could not love thee, dear, so much, Loved I not honor more.
Strana 112 - Prison WHEN Love with unconfined wings Hovers within my gates, And my divine Althea brings To whisper at the grates — When I lie tangled in her hair And fettered to her eye, The birds that wanton in the air Know no such liberty.
Strana 44 - Desiring this man's art and that man's scope, With what I most enjoy contented least; Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising, Haply I think on thee...
Strana 66 - 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?
Strana 67 - 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? 39 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' eclipse and glory of her kind?
Strana 45 - Let me not to the marriage of true minds Admit impediments. Love is not love Which alters when it alteration finds, Or bends with the remover to remove : O, no ! it is an ever-fixed mark, That looks on tempests and is never shaken ; It is the star to every wandering bark, Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.

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