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Seite 283 - Love wont to gae ! 1 leant my back unto an aik, I thought it was a trusty tree ; But first it bow'd, and syne it brak, Sae my true Love did lichtly me. O waly waly, but love be bonny A little time while it is new ; But when 'tis auld, it waxeth cauld And fades awa...
Seite 123 - Six wings he wore, to shade His lineaments divine ; the pair that clad Each shoulder broad, came mantling o'er his breast With regal ornament: the middle pair Girt like a starry zone his waist, and round Skirted his loins and thighs with downy gold And colours dipt in Heaven ; the third his feet Shadow'd from either heel with feather'd mail, Sky-tinctur'd grain. Like Maia's son he stood, And shook his plumes, that heavenly fragrance fill'd The circuit wide.
Seite 118 - OLD as I am, for ladies' love unfit, The power of beauty I remember yet, Which once inflamed my soul, and still inspires my wit.
Seite 76 - The lamb thy riot dooms to bleed today, Had he thy reason, would he skip and play? Pleased to the last, he crops the flowery food, And licks the hand just raised to shed his blood.
Seite 259 - Or the unseen Genius of the wood. But let my due feet never fail To walk the studious cloister's pale, And love the high embowed roof, With antique pillars massy proof, And storied windows richly dight, Casting a dim religious light.
Seite 259 - With antique pillars massy proof, And storied windows richly dight, Casting a dim religious light. There let the pealing organ blow To the full-voiced quire below In service high and anthems clear As may with sweetness, through mine ear, Dissolve me into ecstasies, And bring all Heaven before mine eyes.
Seite 270 - Meanwhile, whate'er of beautiful, or new, Sublime, or dreadful, in earth, sea, or sky, By chance, or search was offered to his view, He scann'd with curious and romantic eye.
Seite 282 - Pelops' line, Or the tale of Troy divine, Or what (though rare) of later age, Ennobled hath the buskined stage. But O, sad Virgin, that thy power Might raise Musaeus from his bower, Or bid the soul of Orpheus sing Such notes as warbled to the string, Drew iron tears down Pluto's cheek, And made Hell grant what Love did seek. Or call up him that left...