Early English Poetry, Ballads, and Popular Literature of the Middle Ages, Band 6

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Percy Society, 1842
 

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Seite 27 - Character of a Happy Life HOW happy is he born and taught That serveth not another's will; Whose armour is his honest thought, And simple truth his utmost skill ! Whose passions not his masters are; Whose soul is still prepared for death, Untied unto the world by care Of public fame or private breath; Who envies none that chance doth raise...
Seite 29 - Who God doth late and early pray More of his grace than gifts to lend; And entertains the harmless day With a religious book or friend — This man is freed from servile bands Of hope to rise or fear to fall: Lord of himself, though not of lands, And, having nothing, yet hath all.
Seite 33 - You violets that first appear, By your pure purple mantles known Like the proud virgins of the year, As if the spring were all your own ; What are you when the rose is blown ? So, when my mistress shall be seen In form and beauty of her mind, By virtue first, then choice, a Queen, Tell me, if she were not design'd Th...
Seite 35 - While others sing his praise, let me engrave These bleeding numbers to adorn the place. Here will I paint the characters of woe; Here will I pay my tribute to the dead ; And here my faithful tears in showers shall flow To humanize the flints ou which I tread.
Seite 5 - To fare so freely with so little cost, Than stake his twelvepence to a meaner host. Hadst thou not told me, I should surely say He...
Seite 43 - I wish a cheerful spirit, and a thankful heart to value it, as one of the greatest blessings of our good God, in whose dear love I leave you, remaining, Your poor friend to serve you, H. WOTTON.
Seite 6 - Though he perhaps ne'er pass'd the English shore, Yet fain would counted be a conqueror. His hair, French-like, stares on his frighted head, One lock amazon-like dishevelled, As if he meant to wear a native cord, If chance his fates should him that bane afford. All British bare upon the bristled skin, Close notched is his beard both lip and chin ; His linen collar labyrinthian set, Whose thousand double turnings never met : His sleeves...
Seite 44 - ... thou great Power, in whom I move, For whom I live, to whom I die, Behold me through thy beams of love, Whilst on this couch of tears I lie ; And cleanse my sordid soul within, By thy Christ's blood, the bath of sin. No...
Seite 39 - Fresh juice did stir th' embracing vines ; And birds had drawn their valentines. The jealous trout, that low did lie, Rose at a well-dissembled fly ; There stood my Friend, with patient skill, Attending of his trembling quill.
Seite 25 - Sweet Benjamin, since thou art young. And hast not yet the use of tongue, Make it thy slave, while thou art free, Imprison it, lest it do thee.

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