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Page 102 - Alas! what boots it with uncessant care To tend the homely, slighted, shepherd's trade And strictly meditate the thankless Muse ? Were it not better done, as others use, To sport with Amaryllis in the shade, Or with the tangles of Neaera's hair?
Page 280 - O, how this spring of love resembleth The uncertain glory of an April day ; Which now shows all the beauty of the sun, And by and by a cloud takes all away ! Re-enter PANTHINO.
Page 167 - Stern o'er each bosom reason holds her state, With daring aims irregularly great. Pride in their port, defiance in their eye, I see the lords of human kind pass by...
Page 93 - How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank ! Here will we sit and let the sounds of music Creep in our ears; soft stillness and the night Become the touches of sweet harmony.
Page 113 - II cannot be too deeply impressed on the mind , that application is the price to be paid for mental acquisitions, and that it is as absurd to expect them without it, as to hope for a harvest where we have not sown the seed.
Page 102 - Some Frenchman — possibly Montaigne — says : " People talk about thinking, but for my part I never think, except when I sit down to write." It is this never thinking, unless when we sit down to write, which is the cause of so much indifferent composition. But perhaps there is something more involved in the Frenchman's observation than meets the eye. It is certain that the mere act of inditing, tends, in a great degree, to the logicalization...
Page 329 - She makes fierce spoil, and swells with wicked triumph To bury her lean knuckles in his eyes : Then doth she gnaw the pale and o'er-grown nails From his dry hand : but if she find some life Yet lurking close, she bites his gelid lips, And sticking her black tongue in his dry throat, She breathes dire murmurs, which enforce him bear Her baneful secrets to the spirits of horror.
Page 50 - But if a little exercise you choose, Some zest for ease, 'tis not forbidden here : Amid the groves you may indulge the muse, Or tend the blooms and deck the vernal year...