Memorials of the Savoy: The Palace: the Hospital: the Chapel

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Macmillan and Company, 1878 - 267 頁
 

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第 200 頁 - Made in the last promotion of the blest ; Whose palms, new plucked from paradise, In spreading branches more sublimely rise, Rich with immortal green above the rest...
第 196 頁 - SHALL I, wasting in despair, Die because a woman's fair ? Or make pale my cheeks with care 'Cause another's rosy are ? Be she fairer than the day, Or the flowery meads in May, If she be not so to me, What care I how fair she be...
第 202 頁 - O gracious God! how far have we Profaned thy heavenly gift of poesy! Made prostitute and profligate the Muse, • Debased to each obscene and impious use, Whose harmony was first ordained above For tongues of angels and for hymns of love!
第 205 頁 - Meantime, her warlike brother on the seas His waving streamers to the winds displays, And vows for his return, with vain devotion, pays. Ah, generous youth ! that wish forbear, — The winds too soon will waft thee here ! Slack all thy sails, and fear to come. Alas ! thou know'st not thou art wrecked at home ! No more shalt thou behold thy sister's face, Thou hast already had her last embrace.
第 200 頁 - Hear then a mortal Muse thy praise rehearse In no ignoble verse, But such as thy own voice did practise here, When thy first fruits of poesy were given, To make thyself a welcome inmate there ; While yet a young probationer, And candidate of Heaven.
第 190 頁 - And his raiment became shining, exceeding white as snow ; so as no fuller on earth can white them.
第 201 頁 - Strung each his lyre, and tuned it high, That all the people of the sky Might know a poetess was born on earth ; And then, if ever, mortal ears Had heard the music of the spheres.
第 196 頁 - Turtle-dove or pelican, If she be not so to me, What care I how kind she be?
第 202 頁 - Art she had none, yet wanted none, For Nature did that want supply: So rich in treasures of her own, She might our boasted stores defy: Such noble vigour did her verse adorn, That it seem'd borrow'd, where 'twas only born.
第 196 頁 - Which may gain her name of best; If she be not such to me, What care I how good she be ? 'Cause her fortune seems too high, Shall I play the fool and die ? Those that bear a noble mind Where they want of riches find, Think what with them they would do. That without them dare to woo...

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