Sacharissa: Some Account of Dorothy Sidney, Countess of Sunderland, Her Family and Friends, 1617-1684

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Page 36 - 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 35 - 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.
Page 19 - There were hills, which garnished their proud heights with stately trees ; humble valleys, whose base estate seemed comforted with the refreshing of silver rivers: .meadows, enamelled with all sorts of eye-pleasing' .flowers ; thickets, which being lined with most pleasant shade were witnessed so...
Page 7 - Love my memory, cherish my friends ; their faith to me may assure you they are honest. But, above all, govern your will and affections by the will and word of your Creator ; in me, beholding the end of this world, with all her vanities.
Page 35 - ON A GIRDLE THAT which her slender waist confined, Shall now my joyful temples bind; No monarch but would give his crown His arms might do what this has done. It was my Heaven's extremest sphere, The pale which held that lovely deer; My joy, my grief, my hope, my love, Did all within this circle move. A narrow compass! and yet there Dwelt all that's good, and all that's fair; Give me but what this ribband bound, Take all the rest the sun goes round.
Page 233 - ... gaming, and all dissoluteness, and as it were total forgetfulness of God, (it being Sunday evening,) which this day se'nnight I was witness of, the King sitting and toying with his concubines, Portsmouth, Cleveland...
Page 35 - In vain, alas ! for every thing, Which I have known belong to you, Your form does to my fancy bring, And makes my old wounds bleed anew.
Page 20 - Thou art not, Penshurst, built to envious show Of touch or marble; nor canst boast a row Of polished pillars or a roof of gold : Thou hast no lantern, whereof tales are told ; Or stair, or courts ; but stand'st an ancient pile, And these grudged at, are reverenced the while.
Page 20 - Bright eels that emulate them, and leap on land, Before the fisher or into his hand. Then hath thy orchard fruit, thy garden flowers, Fresh as the air, and new as are the hours...
Page 142 - Vane, calling him by his name, that he might have prevented this, but that he was a juggler, and had not common honesty.

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