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acquainted appears Atheist's Tragedy beauty believe better Burnet called character Charité Charles Cheynell Chillingworth church Clarimond court dead death desire doth doubt Duke Duke of Burgundy Dutch Dutchess Earl England extract eyes fancy father Father Isla favour fear feeling Francis Cheynell friends gentleman Gerund give hand hath head heard heart heaven Hermippus honour Horace Walpole Jack Sheppard king King of England king's lady light live look Lord Chatham Lucretius Lysis majesty manner master mind Moth murder nature never Newgate Newgate Calendar night noble observed passage passion person pleasure poet poor pray present prince prison reader reason Robert Mansel seems Sonnet soul speak spirit sweet sword taste thee thing thou thought tion told took true truth Tyburn whilst words writers
Page 400 - s not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks Within his bending sickle's compass come ; Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, But bears it out even to the edge of doom. If this be error and upon me proved, I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
Page 396 - And moan the expense of many a vanish'd sight. Then can I grieve at grievances foregone, And heavily from woe to woe tell o'er The sad account of fore-bemoaned moan, Which I new pay as if not paid before. But if the while I think on thee, dear friend, All losses are restored and sorrows end.
Page 404 - As it fell upon a day In the merry month of May, Sitting in a pleasant shade Which a grove of myrtles made, Beasts did leap, and birds did sing, Trees did grow, and plants did spring...
Page 396 - When to the sessions of sweet silent thought I summon up remembrance of things past, I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought, And with old woes new wail my dear time's •waste...
Page 397 - When summer's breath their masked buds discloses : But, for their virtue only is their show, They live unwoo'd and unrespected fade, Die to themselves. Sweet roses do not so ; Of their sweet deaths are sweetest odours made : And so of you, beauteous and lovely youth, When that shall fade, my verse distils your truth.
Page 393 - LAWRENCE, of virtuous father virtuous son, Now that the fields are dank, and ways are mire, Where shall we sometimes meet, and by the fire Help waste a sullen day, what may be won From the hard season gaining? Time will run On smoother, till Favonius reinspire The frozen earth, and clothe in fresh attire The lily and rose, that neither sowed nor spun.
Page 397 - I'll read, his for his love." XXXIII Full many a glorious morning have I seen Flatter the mountain-tops with sovereign eye, Kissing with golden face the meadows green, Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy; Anon permit the basest clouds to ride With ugly rack on his celestial face And from the forlorn world his visage hide, Stealing unseen to west with this disgrace.
Page 405 - He that is thy friend indeed, He will help thee in thy need : If thou sorrow, he will weep ; If thou wake, he cannot sleep ; Thus of every grief in heart He with thee doth bear a part. These are certain signs to know Faithful friend from flattering foe.
Page 395 - tis true I have gone here and there And made myself a motley to the view, Gored mine own thoughts, sold cheap what is most dear, Made old offences of affections new.