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Anon appear beauty birds born breath bring called cause court dear death delight desire died doth earth English eyes face fair fall fancy fate fear fire flames flowers give gone grace grief grow hand happy hath head hear heart heaven hope kind king kiss language learning leave less light lips live look lord love's lover maid mind morn move nature ne'er never night once Oxford passion perhaps plays pleasure poems poet poor printed prove published reign rest rose scorn seems sighs sing smile SONG soon sorrow soul specimen spring stay sweet taste tears tell thee thine thing thou thought thousand true volume Whilst wind wings Wood young youth
Seite 223 - To ALTHEA FROM 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 fetter'd to her eye, The birds that wanton in the air Know no such liberty.
Seite 23 - Sweet air blow soft, mount larks aloft To give my Love good-morrow ! Wings from the wind to please her mind Notes from the lark I'll borrow ; Bird prune thy wing, nightingale sing, To give my Love good-morrow ; To give my Love good-morrow Notes from them both I'll borrow.
Seite 96 - THE glories of our blood and state Are shadows, not substantial things ; There is no armour against fate ; Death lays his icy hand on kings. Sceptre and crown Must tumble down, And in the dust be equal made With the poor crooked scythe and spade.
Seite 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.
Seite 196 - Why so pale and wan, fond lover? Prithee, why so pale? Will, when looking well can't move her, Looking ill prevail? Prithee, why so pale?
Seite 178 - Now the bright morning star, day's harbinger, Comes dancing from the east, and leads with her The flowery May, who from her green lap throws The yellow cowslip, and the pale primrose. Hail, bounteous May, that dost inspire Mirth, and youth, and warm desire ; Woods and groves are of thy dressing, Hill and dale doth boast thy blessing. Thus we salute thee with our early song, And welcome thee, and wish thee long.
Seite 129 - Ask me no more whither doth haste The nightingale when May is past, For in your sweet dividing throat She winters and keeps warm her note. Ask me no more where Jove bestows, When June is past, the fading rose, For in your beauty's orient deep These flowers as in their causes, sleep.
Seite 56 - Cause I see a woman kind; Or a well disposed nature Joined with a lovely feature? Be she meeker, kinder, than Turtle-dove or pelican, If she be not so to me, What care I how kind she be?
Seite 223 - When (like committed Linnets) I With shriller throat shall sing The sweetness, Mercy, Majesty, And glories of my King ; When I shall voice aloud, how Good He is, how Great should be ; Enlarged Winds that curl the Flood, Know no such Liberty.
Seite 348 - scape, Rivals and Falsehood soon appear In a more dreadful shape. By such degrees to joy they come, And are so long withstood, So slowly they receive the sum, It hardly does them good. 'Tis cruel to prolong a pain; And to defer a joy, Believe me, gentle Celemene, Offends the winged boy.