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Strana 124 - Our souls, whose faculties can comprehend The wondrous architecture of the world, And measure every wandering planet's course, Still climbing after knowledge infinite, And always moving as the restless spheres, Will us to wear ourselves, and never rest, Until we reach the ripest fruit of all, That perfect bliss and sole felicity, The sweet fruition of an earthly crown.
Strana 119 - I'll ride in golden armour like the sun ; And in my helm a triple plume shall spring, Spangled with diamonds, dancing in the air, To note me emperor of the three-fold world...
Strana 124 - Flora in her morning's pride, Shaking her silver tresses in the air, Rain'st on the earth resolved pearl in showers, And sprinklest sapphires on thy shining face, Where Beauty, mother to the Muses, sits, And comments volumes with her...
Strana 259 - This eulogy of honourable love is vigorous in thought as well as metre : — "fis nature's second sun, Causing a spring of virtues where he shines; And as without the sun, the world's great eye, All colours, beauties, both of art and nature, Are given in vain to...
Strana 145 - He rends and tears it with his wrathful paw, And highly scorning that the lowly earth Should drink his blood, mounts up into the air.
Strana 411 - To-day I go to the Blackfriars play-house, Sit in the view, salute all my acquaintance, Rise up between the acts...
Strana 247 - Marian, thou seest, though courtly pleasures want, Yet country sport in Sherwood is not scant : For the soul-ravishing delicious sound Of instrumental music we have found The winged quiristers, with divers notes Sent from their quaint recording pretty throats, On every branch that compasseth our bower, Without command contenting us each hour. For arras hangings and rich tapestry, We have sweet Nature's best embroidery. For thy steel glass, wherein thou wont'st to look. Thy crystal eyes gaze in a...
Strana 57 - I see them with their bolstered hair Staring and grinning in thy gentle face, And in their ruthless hands their daggers drawn, Insulting o'er thee with a peck of oaths, Whilst thou submissive, pleading for relief. Art mangled by their ireful instruments. Methinks...