Select Poems from the Hesperides: Or, Works Both Human and Divine

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J. Gutch, 1810 - 253 oldal

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134. oldal - TO BLOSSOMS FAIR pledges of a fruitful tree, Why do ye fall so fast ? Your date is not so past, But you may stay yet here awhile, To blush and gently smile, And go at last.
44. oldal - Come, my Corinna, come ; and, coming, mark How each field turns a street, each street a park Made green, and trimm'd with trees ; see how Devotion gives each house a bough, Or branch ; each porch, each door, ere this, An ark, a tabernacle is Made up of whitethorn neatly interwove, As if here were those cooler shades of love.
95. oldal - You haste away so soon; As yet the early-rising Sun Has not attain'd his noon. Stay, stay Until the hasting day Has run But to the even-song; And, having pray'd together, we Will go with you along. We have short time to stay, as you, We have as short a Spring ; As quick a growth to meet decay As you, or any thing.
45. oldal - And some have wept, and woo'd, and plighted troth, And chose their priest, ere we can cast off sloth : Many a green-gown has been given ; Many a kiss, both odd and even : Many a glance, too, has been sent From out the eye, love's firmament : Many a jest told of the keys betraying This night, and locks pick'd : — yet we're not a Maying.
44. oldal - To come forth like the spring-time fresh and green, And sweet as Flora. Take no care For jewels for your gown or hair : Fear not ; the leaves will strew Gems in abundance upon you : Besides, the childhood of the day has kept, Against you come, some orient pearls unwept.
160. oldal - Her eyes the glow-worm lend thee, The shooting stars attend thee, And the elves also, Whose little eyes glow Like the sparks of fire, befriend thee.
81. oldal - To MEADOWS. Ye have been fresh and green, Ye have been fill'd with flowers ; And ye the walks have been Where maids have spent their hours. You have beheld how they With wicker arks did come, To kiss and bear away The richer cowslips home.
15. oldal - Ribbons to flow confusedly: A winning wave, deserving note, In the tempestuous petticoat: A careless shoe-string, in whose tie I see a wild civility: Do more bewitch me than when art Is too precise in every part.
73. oldal - About the cart hear how the rout Of rural younglings raise the shout, Pressing before, some coming after, Those with a shout, and these with laughter. Some bless the cart, some kiss the sheaves, Some prank them up with oaken leaves...
81. oldal - E'en death to die for thee. Thou art my life, my love, my heart, The very eyes of me: And hast command of every part, To live and die for thee.

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