The Poetical Works of Edmund Waller and Sir John Denham, Page 127

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Page 206 - O could I flow like thee, and make thy stream My great example, as it is my theme! Though deep, yet clear, though gentle, yet not dull, Strong without rage, without o'er-flowing full.
Page 265 - That servile path thou nobly dost decline Of tracing word by word, and line by line : A new and nobler way thou dost pursue, To make translations, and translators too : They but preserve the ashes, thou the flame, True to his sense, but truer to his fame.
Page 47 - 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.
Page 216 - What barbarous invader sack'd the land ! But when he hears no Goth, no Turk, did bring This desolation, but a Christian king ; When nothing but the name of zeal appears 'Twixt our best actions and the worst of theirs ; What does he think our sacrilege would spare, When such th...
Page 51 - Some other nymphs, with colours faint^ And pencil slow, may Cupid paint, And a weak heart in time destroy ; She has a stamp, and prints the boy; Can, with a single look, inflame The coldest breast, the rudest tame.
Page 209 - Horace his wit and Virgil's state He did not steal, but emulate! And when he would like them appear, Their garb, but not their clothes, did wear.
Page 159 - 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 160 - How small a part of time they share, That are so wondrous sweet and fair.
Page 196 - The soul's dark cottage, batter'd and decay'd, Lets in new light through chinks that time has made ; Stronger by weakness, wiser men become, As they draw near to their eternal home.
Page 216 - twixt anger, shame, and fear, Those for what's past, and this for what's too near, My eye, descending from the hill, surveys Where Thames among the wanton valleys strays. Thames, the most lov'd of all the Ocean's sons By his old sire, to his embraces runs ; Hasting to pay his tribute to the sea, Like mortal life to meet eternity. Though with those streams he no resemblance hoi*. Whose foam is amber, and their gravel gold, His genuine and less guilty wealth t...

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