Kentish poets, a series of writers, natives of or residents in Kent; with specimens of their compositions, and some account of their lives and writings, by R. Freeman

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Rowland Freeman
1821
 

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Page 111 - What woful stuff this madrigal would be In some starved hackney sonneteer or me ! But let a lord once own the happy lines, How the wit brightens ! how the style refines ! Before his sacred name flies every fault, And each exalted stanza teems with thought.
Page 60 - When Love with unconfine'd 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.
Page 61 - Enlarged winds, that curl the flood, Know no such liberty. Stone walls do not a prison make, Nor iron bars a cage; Minds innocent and quiet take That for an hermitage; If I have freedom in my love And in my soul am free, Angels alone, that soar above, Enjoy such liberty.
Page 98 - Tell her that's young, And shuns to have her graces spied, That hadst thou sprung In deserts where no men abide, Thou must have uncommended died. Small is the worth Of beauty from the light retired ; Bid her come forth, Suffer herself to be desired, And not blush so to be admired. Then die, that she The common fate of all things rare May read in thee ; How small a part of time they share, That are so wondrous sweet and fair.
Page 98 - Go, lovely Rose ! Tell her, that wastes her time and me, That now she knows, When I resemble her to thee, How sweet and fair she seems to be. Tell her that's young And shuns to have her graces spied, That hadst thou sprung In deserts, where no men abide, Thou must have uncommended died. Small is the worth Of beauty from the light retired: Bid her come forth, Suffer herself to be desired, And not blush so to be admired. Then die ! that she The common fate...
Page 59 - Night, as clear Hesper, shall our tapers whip From the light casements where we play, And the dark hag from her black mantle strip, And stick there everlasting day. Thus richer than untempted kings are we...
Page 78 - They wither under cold delays, Or are in tempests lost. One while they seem to touch the port, Then straight into the main Some angry wind in cruel sport The vessel drives again. At first Disdain and Pride they fear, Which, if they chance to '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,...
Page 55 - GOING TO THE WARS Tell me not, Sweet, I am unkind That from the nunnery Of thy chaste breast and quiet mind, To war and arms I fly. True, a new mistress now I chase, The first foe in the field; And with a stronger faith embrace A sword, a horse, a shield. Yet this inconstancy is such As you too shall adore; I could not love thee, dear, so much, Loved I not honour more.
Page 69 - Charles); and therefore, as the King has made my daughter a countess, I will endeavour to make his daughter a queen...
Page 368 - They closed full fast on every side, No slackness there was found ; And many a gallant gentleman Lay gasping on the ground.

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