The Poetical Works of Matthew Prior: With a Life, Tom 1

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Little, Brown, 1854

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Strona v - I chide the world-without-end hour Whilst I, my sovereign, watch the clock for you, Nor think the bitterness of absence sour When you have bid your servant once adieu ; Nor dare I question with my jealous thought Where you may be, or your affairs suppose...
Strona 193 - Dear Thomas, did'st thou never pop Thy head into a tin-man's shop? There, Thomas, did'st thou never see ('Tis but by way of Simile !) A squirrel spend his little rage, In jumping round a rolling cage ? The cage, as either side...
Strona 149 - Poor little, pretty, fluttering thing, Must we no longer live together, And dost thou prune thy trembling wing, To take thy flight thou know'st not whither. Thy humorous vein, thy pleasing folly, Lies all neglected, all forgot; And pensive, wavering, melancholy, Thou dread'st and hop'st thou know'st not what.
Strona 74 - THE merchant, to secure his treasure, Conveys it in a borrowed name: Euphelia serves to grace my measure, But Chloe is my real flame. My softest verse, my darling lyre Upon Euphelia's toilet lay, When Chloe noted her desire That I should sing, that I should play. My lyre I tune, my voice I raise; But with my numbers mix my sighs; And whilst I sing Euphelia's praise, I fix my soul on Chloe's eyes.
Strona 211 - And stele from me, I wene : Than were the case worse than it was, And I more wo-begone : For, in my mynde, of all mankynde I love but you alone.
Strona 210 - I have purvayed me of a mayd, Whom I love more than you ; Another fayrere, than ever ye were, I dare it wele avowe ; And of you bothe eche sholde be...
Strona 200 - For late a man do what he can, Theyr favour to attayne, Yet, yf a newe do them persue, Theyr first true lover than Laboureth for nought ; for from her thought He is a banyshed man.
Strona 271 - The fatal retreat of th' unfortunate brave ; Where honour and justice most oddly contribute To ease heroes' pains by a halter and gibbet.
Strona 127 - Let her behold the frantic scene, The women wretched, false the men : And when, these certain ills to shun, She would to thy embraces run ; Receive her with extended arms : Seem more delighted with her charms : Wait on her to the park and play : Put on good humour ; make her gay : Be to her virtues very kind ; Be to her faults a little blind ; Let all her ways be unconfin'd ; And clap your padlock — on her mind.
Strona 74 - Euphelia's toilet lay ; When Chloe noted her desire, That I should sing, that I should play. My lyre I tune, my voice I raise ; But with my numbers mix my sighs : And whilst I sing Euphelia's praise, I fix my soul on Chloe's eyes. Fair Chloe blushed : Euphelia frowned : I sung and gazed : I played and trembled : And Venus to the Loves around Remarked, how ill we all dissembled.

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