The unknown; or, The northern gallery, Volume 2

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Page 21 - If to do were as easy as to know what were^ good to do, chapels had been churches, and poor men's cottages princes' palaces. It is a good divine that follows his own instructions: I can easier teach twenty what were good to be done, than be one of the twenty to follow mine own teaching.
Page 200 - Admired Miranda ! Indeed the top of admiration ; worth What's dearest to the world ! Full many a lady I have eyed with best regard ; and many a time The harmony of their tongues hath into bondage Brought my too diligent ear...
Page 21 - O good old man ; how well in thee appears The constant service of the antique world, When service sweat for duty, not for meed...
Page 200 - And put it to the foil : but you, O you ! So perfect, and so peerless, are created Of every creature's best.
Page 104 - Phoebus' fiery carre In hast was climbing up the easterne hill, Full envious that Night so long his roome did fill ; When those accursed messengers of hell, That feigning dreame, and that faire-forged spright Came, &c.
Page 74 - O'erhang his wavy bed: Now air is hush'd, save where the weak-eyed bat With short shrill shriek flits by on leathern wing, Or where the beetle winds His small but sullen horn, As oft he rises, 'midst the twilight path Against the pilgrim borne in heedless hum...
Page 104 - By this the northerne wagoner had set His sevenfold teme behind the stedfast starre That was in ocean waves yet never wet, But firme is fixt, and sendeth light from farre To all that in the wide deepe wandring arre ; And chearefull chaunticlere with his note shrill Had warned once, that Phoebus...
Page 165 - This guest of summer, The temple-haunting martlet, does approve By his loved mansionry that the heaven's breath Smells wooingly here : no jutty,* frieze, Buttress, nor coign* of vantage, but this bird Hath made his pendent bed and procreant cradle : Where they most breed and haunt, I have observed...
Page 50 - He fell, and groaning grasp'd in agony the ground. Full many a melancholy night He watch'd the slow return of light ; And sought the powers of sleep, To spread a momentary calm O'er his sad couch, and in the balm ... . Of bland oblivion's dews his burning eyes to steep. Full oft, unknowing and unknown, He wore his endless noons alone, Amid th...
Page 50 - For when we in our viciousness grow hard, Oh ! misery on't ! the wise gods seal our eyes, In our own filth drop our clear judgments, make us Adore our errors, laugh at us, while we strut To our confusion.

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