Select Works of Mr. A. CowleyJ. Exshaw, D. Chamberlaine, W. Sleater [and 4 others], 1772 |
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Select Works of Mr. A. Cowley, Vol. 2 of 2 (Classic Reprint) Abraham Cowley Podgląd niedostępny - 2018 |
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Popularne fragmenty
Strona 145 - A MIGHTY pain to love it is, And 'tis a pain that pain to miss ; But, of all pains, the greatest pain It is to love, but love in vain.
Strona 117 - Ye fields of Cambridge, our dear Cambridge, say, Have ye not seen us walking every day? Was there a tree about which did not know The love betwixt us two? Henceforth, ye gentle trees, for ever fade ; Or your sad branches thicker join, And into darksome shades combine, Dark as the grave wherein my friend is laid...
Strona 166 - Tho' he inherit Nor the pride, nor ample pinion, That the Theban eagle bear, Sailing with supreme dominion Thro' the azure deep of air : Yet oft before his infant eyes would run Such forms as glitter in the Muse's ray With orient hues...
Strona 147 - Fill to me, Love; nay, fill it up; And mingled cast into the cup Wit, and mirth, and noble fires, Vigorous health, and gay desires.
Strona 85 - It is time to recover it out of the tyrant's hands, and to restore it to the kingdom of God, who is the father of it. It is time to baptize it in Jordan, for it will never become clean by bathing in the water of Damascus.
Strona 139 - But an eternal health goes round. Fill up the bowl, then, fill it high, Fill all the glasses there, for why Should every creature drink but I? Why, man of morals, tell me why?
Strona 180 - Th' emboldened snow next to the flame does sleep. And if we weigh, like thee, Nature, and causes, we shall see That thus it needs must be : To things immortal time can do. no wrong, And that which never is to die, for ever must be young.
Strona 218 - His long misfortunes' fatal end ; " How chearfully, and how exempt from fear, " On the Great Sovereign's will he did depend ,
Strona 82 - ... it; as men commonly play not out the game, when it is evident that they can win it, but lay down their cards, and take up what they have won.
Strona 142 - OFt am I by the Women told, Poor Anacreon thou grow'st old. Look how thy hairs are falling all ; Poor Anacreon how they fall ? Whether I grow old or no, By th'effects I do not know. This I know without being told, 'Tis Time to Live if I grow Old...