Beaumont and Fletcher: Or, The Finest Scenes, Lyrics, and Other Beauties of Those Two Poets, Now First Selected from the Whole of Their Works, to the Exclusion of Whatever is Morally Objectionable: with Opinions of Distinguished Critics, Notes Explanatory and Otherwise, and a General Introductory Preface

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Page 48 - Lay a garland on my hearse, Of the dismal yew; Maidens, willow branches bear; Say I died true: My love was false, but I was firm From my hour of birth. Upon my buried body lie Lightly, gentle earth!
Page 352 - Welcome, folded arms and fixed eyes, A sigh that piercing mortifies, A look that's fastened to the ground, A tongue chained up without a sound ! Fountain heads and pathless groves, Places which pale passion loves ! Moonlight walks, when all the fowls Are warmly housed save bats and owls ! A midnight bell, a parting groan, These are the sounds we feed upon ; Then stretch our bones in a still gloomy valley : Nothing's so dainty sweet as lovely melancholy.
Page 358 - Man is his own star; and the soul that can Render an honest and a perfect man, Commands all light, all influence, all fate; Nothing to him falls early or too late. Our acts our angels are, or good or ill, Our fatal shadows that walk by us still.
Page 45 - So high in thoughts as I : You left a kiss Upon these lips then, which I mean to keep From you for ever. I did hear you talk Far above singing ! After you were gone, I grew acquainted with my heart, and search'd What stirr'd it so : Alas ! I found it love ; Yet far from lust ; for could I but have lived In presence of you, I had had my end.
Page 233 - I sit by and sing, Or gather rushes, to make many a ring For thy long fingers; tell thee tales of love) How the pale Phoebe, hunting in a grove, First saw the boy Endymion, from whose eyes She took eternal fire that never dies; How she...
Page 13 - em he would weep As if he meant to make 'em grow again. Seeing such pretty helpless innocence Dwell in his face, I ask'd him all his story. He told me that his parents gentle, died, Leaving him to the mercy of the fields Which gave him roots ; and of the crystal springs, Which did not stop their courses; and the sun, Which still, he thank'd him, yielded him his light.
Page 38 - Tis not the treasure of all kings in one, The wealth of Tagus, nor the rocks of pearl That pave the court of Neptune, can weigh down That virtue ! It was I that hurt the princess. Place me, some god, upon a...
Page 186 - Or painful to his slumbers : easy, sweet, And as a purling stream, thou son of Night, Pass by his troubled senses ; sing his pain Like hollow murmuring wind, or silver rain: Into this prince, gently, oh gently slide, And kiss him into slumbers, like a bride.
Page 236 - Do not fear to put thy feet Naked in the river sweet ; Think not leech, or newt, or toad, Will bite thy foot, when thou hast trod ; Nor let the water rising high, As thou wad'st in, make thee cry And sob ; but ever live with me, And not a wave shall trouble thee ! TO PAN.
Page 13 - Of which he borrowed some to quench his thirst, And paid the nymph again as much in tears. A garland lay him by, made by himself, Of many several flowers, bred in the...

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