The Works of the English Poets: Waller

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164. oldal - For then we know how vain it was to boast Of fleeting things, so certain to be lost. Clouds of affection from our younger eyes Conceal that emptiness which age descries. The soul's dark cottage, battered and decayed, Lets in new light through chinks that Time has made: Stronger by weakness, wiser men become As they draw near to their eternal home. Leaving the old, both worlds at once they view That stand upon the threshold of the new.
85. oldal - 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. It was my Heaven's extremest sphere, The pale which held that lovely deer : My joy, my grief, my hope, my love Did all within this circle move. A narrow compass ! and yet there Dwelt all that's good, and all that's fair : Give me but what this ribband bound, Take all the rest the Sun goes round.
133. oldal - Whether this portion of the world were rent By the rude ocean from the continent, Or thus created, it was sure design'd To be the sacred refuge of mankind.
135. oldal - Against th' unwarlike Persian and the Mede, Whose hasty flight did, from a bloodless field, More spoils than honour to the victor yield. A race unconquer'd, by their clime made bold, The Caledonians, arm'd with want and cold, Have, by a fate indulgent to your fame, Been from all ages kept for you to tame. Whom the old Roman wall...
85. oldal - 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. It was my heaven's extremest sphere, The pale which held that lovely deer, My joy, my grief, my hope, my love, Did all within this circle move. A narrow compass, and yet there Dwelt all that's good and all that's fair; Give me but what this ribband bound, Take all the rest the sun goes round.
97. oldal - Then die! that she The common fate of all things rare May read in thee; How small a part of time they share That are so wondrous sweet and fair!
49. oldal - Embroidered so with flowers where she stood, That it became a garden of a wood. Her presence has such more than human grace, That it can civilize the rudest place: And beauty too, and order can impart, Where nature ne'er intended it, nor art. The plants acknowledge this, and her admire, No less than those of old did Orpheus...
108. oldal - Such truth in love as the' antique world did know, In such a style as courts may boast of now; Which no bold tales of gods or monsters swell, But human passions, such as with us dwell. Man is thy theme, his virtue or his rage Drawn to the life in each elaborate page.
133. oldal - And every coaft may trouble, or relieve : But none can vifit us without your leave. Angels, and we, have this prerogative, That none can at our happy feats arrive : While we defcend at pleafure, to invade The bad with, vengeance, and the good to aid.
123. oldal - Strange ! that such horror and such grace Should dwell together in one place. A fury's arm, an angel's face ! 'Tis innocence, and youth, which makes In Chloris' fancy such mistakes, To start at love, and play with snakes.

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