the poetical works of william drummond of hawthornden

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Trang 4 - I know that all the muse's heavenly lays, With toil of sprite which are so dearly bought, As idle sounds, of few or none are sought, That there is nothing lighter than mere praise.
Trang 7 - Silence' child, sweet father of soft rest, Prince, whose approach peace to all mortals brings, Indifferent host to shepherds and to kings...
Trang 52 - This Life, which seems so fair, Is like a bubble blown up in the air By sporting children's breath, Who chase it everywhere And strive who can most motion it bequeath. And though it sometimes...
Trang 141 - BAPTIST THE last and greatest Herald of Heaven's King, Girt with rough skins, hies to the deserts wild, Among that savage brood the woods forth bring, Which he than man more harmless found and mild. His food was locusts, and what there doth spring, With honey that from virgin hives distilled; Parched body, hollow eyes, some uncouth thing Made him appear, long since from earth exiled.
Trang 343 - ANECDOTA LITERARIA; a Collection of Short Poems in English, Latin, and French, illustrative of the Literature and History of England in the Xlllth Century ; and more especially of the Condition and Manners of the different Classes of Society.
Trang 32 - The nightingales thy coming each where sing, Make an eternal Spring! Give life to this dark world which lieth dead ; Spread forth thy golden hair In larger locks than thou wast wont before, And, emperor-like, decore With diadem of pearl thy temples fair: Chase hence the ugly night, Which serves but to make dear thy glorious light. This...
Trang 60 - But he, grim grinning King, Who caitiffs scorns, and doth the blest surprise, Late having deck'd with beauty's rose his tomb, Disdains to crop a weed, and will not come.
Trang xix - Then do not sparks with your bright suns compare, Perfection in a woman's work is rare ; From an untroubled mind should verses flow, My discontents make mine too muddy show, And hoarse encumbrances of household care; Where these remain, the Muses ne'er repair.
Trang 138 - With swifter speed declines than erst it spread, And, blasted, scarce now shows what it hath been. And doth the pilgrim therefore, whom the night By darkness would imprison on his way, Think on thy home, my soul, and think aright Of what yet rests thee of life's wasting day ? Thy sun posts westward, passed is thy morn, And twice it is not given thee to be born.
Trang 137 - An honour that more fickle is than wind, A glory at opinion's frown that lowers, A treasury which bankrupt time devours, A knowledge than grave ignorance more blind, A vain delight our equals to command, A style of greatness, in effect a dream...

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