ما يقوله الناس - كتابة مراجعة
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الصفحة 190 - 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 white thorn neatly interwove ; As if here were those cooler shades of love.
الصفحة 144 - STILL to be neat, still to be drest, As you were going to a feast; Still to be powder'd, still perfumed: Lady, it is to be presumed, Though art's hid causes are not found, All is not sweet, all is not sound. Give me a look, give me a face That makes simplicity a grace; Robes loosely flowing, hair as free: Such sweet neglect more taketh me Than all th...
الصفحة 243 - Ah Ben ! Say how or .when Shall we, thy guests, Meet at those lyric feasts, Made at the Sun, The Dog, the Triple Tun ; Where we such clusters had, As made us nobly wild, not mad? And yet each verse of thine Out-did the meat, out-did the frolic wine.
الصفحة 143 - Slow, slow, fresh fount, keep time with my salt tears : Yet slower, yet ; O faintly, gentle springs : List to the heavy part the music bears, Woe weeps out her division when she sings.
الصفحة 135 - BUSY old fool, unruly sun, Why dost thou thus, Through windows, and through curtains call on us? Must to thy motions lovers
الصفحة 228 - Yet mine eyes the watch do keep, Sweet Spirit comfort me! When the artless Doctor sees No one hope but of his fees, And his skill runs on the lees, Sweet Spirit comfort me!
الصفحة 226 - A Hymn to God, the Father Wilt Thou forgive that sin where I begun, Which was my sin, though it were done before? Wilt Thou forgive that sin, through which I run, And do run still, though still I do deplore? When Thou hast done, Thou hast not done, 5 For I have more.
الصفحة 195 - FAIR Daffodils, we weep to see You haste away so soon : As yet the early-rising Sun Has not attained his noon. Stay, stay, Until the hasting day Has run But to the even-song ; And, having prayed together, we Will go with you along.
الصفحة 231 - In this world, the Isle of Dreams, While we sit by sorrow's streams, Tears and terrors are our themes, Reciting: But when once from hence we fly, More and more approaching nigh Unto young eternity, Uniting In that whiter Island, where Things are evermore sincere ; Candour here, and lustre there, Delighting :— There no monstrous fancies shall Out of hell an horror call, To create, or cause at all...
الصفحة 131 - My love is as a fever, longing still For that which longer nurseth the disease, Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill, Th' uncertain sickly appetite to please. My reason, the physician to my love, Angry that his prescriptions are not kept. Hath left me, and I desperate now approve Desire is death, which physic did except. Past cure I am, now reason is past care, And...