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91. oldal - I care not, Fortune, what you me deny: You cannot rob me of free Nature's grace; You cannot shut the windows of the sky, Through which Aurora shows her brightening face; You cannot bar my constant feet to trace The woods and lawns, by living stream, at eve: Let health my nerves and finer fibres brace, And I their toys to the great children leave: Of fancy, reason, virtue, nought can me bereave.
583. oldal - Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks Within his bending sickle's compass come; Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, But bears it out even to the edge of doom. If this be error and upon me proved, I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
578. oldal - Thus vainly thinking that she thinks me young, Although she knows my days are past the best, Simply I credit her false-speaking tongue: On both sides thus is simple truth suppress'd.
269. oldal - I do remember him at Clement's Inn, like a man made after supper of a cheese-paring : when he was naked, he was, for all the world, like a forked radish, with a head fantastically carved upon it with a knife...
231. oldal - What then I was. The sounding cataract Haunted me like a passion : the tall rock, The mountain, and the deep and gloomy wood, Their colours and their forms, were then to me An appetite; a feeling and a love, That had no need of a remoter charm, By thought supplied, nor any interest Unborrowed from the eye.
479. oldal - AT evening time, let there be light ; ' Life's little day draws near its close ; Around me fall the shades of night, The night of death, the grave's repose ; To crown my joys, to end my woes, At evening time, let there be light.
420. oldal - Nora's gown for me, That floats as wild as mountain breezes, Leaving every beauty free To sink or swell as Heaven pleases. Yes, my Nora Creina, dear, My simple, graceful Nora Creina, Nature's dress Is loveliness — The dress you wear, my Nora Creina.
485. oldal - In a drear-nighted December, Too happy, happy brook, Thy bubblings ne'er remember Apollo's summer look ; But with a sweet forgetting, They stay their crystal fretting, Never, never petting About the frozen time. Ah ! would 'twere so with many A gentle girl and boy! But were there ever any Writhed not at passed joy? To know the change and feel it, When there is none to heal it Nor numbed sense to steal it — Was never said in rhyme.
318. oldal - You know I love a country life, and here we have it in perfection. I am roused in the morning with the chirping of sparrows, the cooing of pigeons, the lowing of kine, the bleating of sheep, and, to complete the concert, the grunting of swine and neighing of horses. We have a. mighty pleasant garden and orchard, and...
372. oldal - To give a Pic-nic party a fair chance of success, it must be .almost impromptu : projected at twelve o'clock at night at the earliest, executed at twelve o'clock of the following day at the latest ; and even then the odds are 'fearfully against it. The climate of England is not remarkable for knowing its own mind ; nor is the weather