Don Juan, Volume 1

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Page 375 - To gild refined gold, to paint the lily, To throw a perfume on the violet, To smooth the ice, or add another hue Unto the rainbow, or with taper-light To seek the beauteous eye of heaven to garnish, Is wasteful, and ridiculous excess.
Page 256 - Some kinder casuists are pleased to say, In nameless print — that I have no" devotion ; But set those persons down with me to pray, And you shall see who has the properest notion Of getting into heaven the shortest way ; My altars are the mountains and the ocean, Earth, air, stars, — all that springs from the great Whole. Who hath produced, and will receive the souL...
Page 158 - And first one universal shriek there rush'd, Louder than the loud ocean, like a crash Of echoing thunder ; and then all was hush'd, Save the wild wind and the remorseless dash Of billows ; but at intervals there gush'd, Accompanied with a convulsive splash, A solitary shriek, the bubbling cry Of some strong swimmer in his agony.
Page 249 - Of two such lessons, why forget The nobler and the manlier one ? You have the letters Cadmus gave — Think ye he meant them for a slave ? Fill high the bowl with Samian wine!
Page 201 - Man, being reasonable, must get drunk ; The best of life is but intoxication : Glory, the grape, love, gold, in these are sunk The hopes of all men, and of every nation ; Without their sap, how branchless were the trunk Of life's strange tree, so fruitful on occasion : But to return, — Get very drunk ; and when You wake with headache, you shall see what then.
Page 99 - Sweet is the vintage, when the showering grapes In Bacchanal profusion reel to earth, Purple and gushing ; sweet are our escapes From civic revelry to rural mirth ; Sweet to the miser are his glittering heaps, Sweet to the father is his first-born's birth, Sweet is revenge — especially to women, Pillage to soldiers, prize-money to seamen. Sweet is a legacy, and passing sweet The unexpected death of some old lady Or gentleman of seventy years complete, Who've made 'us youth...
Page 246 - The Scian and the Teian muse, The hero's harp, the lover's lute, Have found the fame your shores refuse ; Their place of birth alone is mute To sounds which echo further west Than your sires'
Page 258 - Soft hour ! which wakes the wish and melts the heart Of those who sail the seas, on the first day When they from their sweet friends are torn apart ; Or fills with love the pilgrim on his way, As the far bell of vesper makes him start, Seeming to weep the dying day's decay.
Page 132 - What are the hopes of man? Old Egypt's king Cheops erected the first pyramid, And largest, thinking it was just the thing To keep his memory whole, and mummy hid; But somebody or other, rummaging, Burglariously broke his coffin's lid: Let not a monument give you or me hopes, Since not a pinch of dust remains of Cheops.
Page 217 - Oh, Love! what is it in this world of ours Which makes it fatal to be loved? Ah, why With cypress- branches hast thou wreathed thy bowers, And made thy best interpreter a sigh? As those -who dote on odours pluck the flowers, And place them on their breast — but place to dieThus the frail beings we would fondly cherish Are laid within our bosoms but to perish.

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