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الصفحة 323 - QUEEN and huntress, chaste and fair, Now the sun is laid to sleep, Seated in thy silver chair, State in wonted manner keep: Hesperus entreats thy light, Goddess, excellently bright! Earth, let not thy envious shade Dare itself to interpose: Cynthia's shining orb was made Heaven to clear when day did close: Bless us then with wished sight, Goddess, excellently bright!
الصفحة 127 - J'aime mieux un ruisseau qui, sur la molle arène, Dans un pré plein de fleurs lentement se promène, Qu'un torrent débordé qui, d'un cours orageux, Roule, plein de gravier, sur un terrain fangeux. Hâtez-vous lentement ; et, sans perdre courage, Vingt fois sur le métier remettez votre ouvrage : Polissez-le sans cesse et le repolissez ; Ajomtez quelquefois, et souvent effacez.
الصفحة 412 - And when I feel, fair creature of an hour! , That I shall never look upon thee more, Never have relish in the faery power Of unreflecting love: — then on the shore Of the wide world I stand alone, and think Till love and fame to nothingness do sink.
الصفحة 354 - They say miracles are past ; and we have our philosophical persons, to make modern and familiar, things supernatural and causeless. Hence is it that we make trifles of terrors ; ensconcing ourselves into seeming knowledge, when we should submit ourselves to an unknown fear.
الصفحة 311 - tis done, then 'twere well It were done quickly: If the assassination Could trammel up the consequence, and catch, 'With his surcease, success ; that but this blow Might be the be-all and the end-all here. But here, upon this bank and shoal of time, — We'd jump the life to come...
الصفحة 280 - That fires the length of Ophiuchus huge In the arctic sky, and from his horrid hair Shakes pestilence and war.
الصفحة 280 - Hell-doomed, and breath'st defiance here and scorn Where I reign king, and to enrage thee more, Thy king and lord?
الصفحة 139 - T do confess thou'rt smooth and fair, And I might have gone near to love thee. Had I not found the slightest prayer That lips could speak, had power to move thee; But I can let thee now alone, As worthy to be loved by none.
الصفحة 438 - Reason thus with life : If I do lose thee, I do lose a thing That none but fools would keep.
الصفحة 347 - Phoebus lifts his golden fire: The birds in vain their amorous descant join, Or cheerful fields resume their green attire. These ears, alas ! for other notes repine; A different object do these eyes require...

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