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" How slowly Time creeps, till my Phebe return, While amidst the soft Zephyr's cool breezes I burn ; Methinks, if I knew whereabouts he would tread, I could breathe on his wings, and 'twould melt down the lead. Fly swifter, ye minutes ! bring hither my... "
The Spectator [by J. Addison and others]. With hist. and biogr. preface, and ... - الصفحة 213
بواسطة Spectator The - 1823
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A History of Eighteenth Century Literature (1660-1780)

Edmund Gosse - 1891 - عدد الصفحات: 415
...amidst the soft zephyr's cool breezes I burn ; Methinks if I knew whereabouts he would tread, I could breathe on his wings, and 'twould melt down the lead....minutes, bring hither my Dear, And rest so much longer for 't when she is here. Ah, Colin ! old Time is full of delay, Nor will budge one foot faster for...

Remains, Historical and Literary, Connected with the Palatine ..., المجلد 29

1894
...amidst the soft Zephyr's cool Breezes I burn ; Methinks, if I knew whereabouts he would tread, I could breathe on his Wings, and 'twould melt down the Lead....Dear, And rest so much longer for't when she is here. 70 Ah, Colin ! old Time is full of delay, Nor will budge one Foot faster for all thou can'st say. X....

The Poems of John Byrom, المجلد 29

John Byrom - 1894
...amidst the soft Zephyr's cool Breezes I burn ; Methinks, if I knew whereabouts he would tread, I could breathe on his Wings, and 'twould melt down the Lead....Dear, And rest so much longer for't when she is here. 70 Ah, Colin ! old Time is full of delay, Nor will budge one Foot faster for all thou can'st say. X....

The Cyclopedia of Practical Quotations: English, Latin, and Modern Foreign ...

1896 - عدد الصفحات: 1178
...I knew whereabouts he would tread I could breathe on his wings and 'twould melt down the lead. Ply er the fragrant loam, And betrays the path to her woodland home, t for 't when she is here. h. JOHN BYBOH — A Pastoral. O Time 1 the beautifier of the dead, Adorner...

Musa Pedestris: Three Centuries of Canting Songs and Slang Rhymes (1536-1896)

John Stephen Farmer - 1896 - عدد الصفحات: 251
...bring hither my dear, And, blast me! I'll tip ye a gallon of beer. treat Ah, sink him! the watchman is full of delay, Nor will budge one foot faster for all I can say. Will no blood-hunting foot-pad, that hears me [complain, Stop the wind of that nabbing-cull,...

The Spectator: no. 556-635; June 18, 1714-Dec. 20, 1714

George Atherton Aitken - 1898
...amidst the soft zephyr's cold breezes I burn ; Methinks if I knew whereabouts he would tread, I could breathe on his wings, and 'twould melt down the lead....she is here. Ah Colin ! old time is full of delay, Will no pitying power that hears me complain, Or cure my disquiet, or soften my pain ? To be cured,...

A History of Eighteenth Century Literature (1660-1780)

Edmund Gosse - 1898 - عدد الصفحات: 415
...'twould melt down the lead. Fly swifter, ye minutes, bring hither my Dear, And rest so much longer for 't when she is here. Ah, Colin ! old Time is full of delay, Nor will budge one foot faster for all Ihon canst say." Byrom delights in the anaptestic tetrameter, which he wields very smoothly, and employs...

British Anthologies, المجلد 8

Edward Arber - 1899
...amidst the soft Zephyr's cold breezes I burn. Methinks, if I knew whereabouts he would tread ; I could breathe on his wings! and 'twould melt down the lead....minutes ! bring hither my Dear ! And rest so much longer for 't, when she is here. ' Ah ! COLIN ! old Time is full of delay ; Nor will budge one foot faster,...

The Pope Anthology: 1701-1744, المجلد 8

Edward Arber - 1899 - عدد الصفحات: 312
...^amidst the soft Zephyr's cold breezes I burn. Methinks, if I knew whereabouts he would tread; I could breathe on his wings! and 'twould melt down the lead....minutes! bring hither my Dear! And rest so much longer for 't, when she is here. ' Ah ! COLIN ! old Time is full of delay ; Nor will budge one foot faster,...

The Pope Anthology: 1701-1744, المجلد 8

Edward Arber - 1901 - عدد الصفحات: 312
...amidst the soft Zephyr's cold breezes I burn. Methinks, if I knew whereabouts he would tread; I could breathe on his wings! and 'twould melt down the lead....minutes! bring hither my Dear! And rest so much longer for 't, when she is here. ' Ah ! COLIN ! old Time is full of delay; Nor will budge one foot faster,...




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