Què en diuen els usuaris - Escriviu una ressenya
No hem trobat cap ressenya als llocs habituals.
Altres edicions - Mostra-ho tot
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Pàgina 103 - O eloquent, just, and mighty Death! whom none could advise, thou hast persuaded; what none hath dared, thou hast done; and whom all the world hath flattered, thou only hast cast out of the world and despised: thou hast drawn together all the far-stretched greatness, all the pride, cruelty, and ambition of man, and covered it all over with these two narrow words, Hie jacet.
Pàgina 284 - Hark, hark! the lark at heaven's gate sings, And Phoebus 'gins arise, His steeds to water at those springs On chaliced flowers that lies; And winking Mary-buds begin To ope their golden eyes: With every thing that pretty is, My lady sweet, arise: Arise, arise.
Pàgina 288 - Then let not the dark thee cumber ; What though the moon does slumber, The stars of the night Will lend thee their light, Like tapers clear without number. Then, Julia, let me woo thee, Thus, thus to come unto me : And when I shall meet Thy silvery feet, My soul I'll pour into thee.
Pàgina 149 - Meanwhile the mind from pleasure less Withdraws into its happiness; The mind, that Ocean where each kind Does straight its own resemblance find; Yet it creates, transcending these, Far other worlds, and other seas; Annihilating all that's made To a green thought in a green shade.
Pàgina 149 - Fair Quiet, have I found thee here, And Innocence, thy sister dear? Mistaken long, I sought you then In busy companies of men: Your sacred plants, if here below, Only among the plants will grow; Society is all but rude To this delicious solitude. No white nor red was ever seen So amorous as this lovely green. Fond lovers, cruel as their flame, Cut in these trees their mistress
Pàgina 290 - 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.
Pàgina 286 - The lark now leaves his watery nest, And climbing, shakes his dewy wings; He takes this window for the East, And to implore your light he sings: 'Awake, awake, the morn will never rise Till she can dress her beauty at your eyes.
Pàgina 287 - 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.
Pàgina 149 - Annihilating all that's made To a green thought in a green shade. Here at the fountain's sliding foot, Or at some fruit-tree's mossy root, Casting the body's vest aside...