What people are saying - Write a review
We haven't found any reviews in the usual places.
Other editions - View all
Airs Anon ANTHONY HOPE appear Author beauty birds born bright bring called Campion clear College comes Crown 8vo dear death delight desire doth earth Edition English eyes face fair fall fear fire flowers follow give gone grace green grow hand hast hath hear heart heaven Herrick hope Illustrated Italy keep kind king kiss Lady leave light lines lips live look Lord lovers lullaby merry mind morn move Nature never night once Page play pleasure poem poor praise pretty printed rest rose Second seen Shakespeare shepherd sighs sight sing sleep smile song soon soul spring story sweet tears tell thee thing thou thought true unto verse volume wanton weep wind wish youth
Page 277 - A lily of a day Is fairer far, in May, Although it fall and die that night; It was the plant and flower of light. In small proportions we just beauties see; And in short measures life may perfect be.
Page 19 - Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea, But sad mortality o'er-sways their power, How with this rage shall beauty hold a plea, Whose action is no stronger than a flower?
Page 116 - When in the chronicle of wasted time I see descriptions of the fairest wights, And beauty making beautiful old rhyme, In praise of ladies dead, and lovely knights ; Then, in the blazon of sweet beauty's best, Of hand, of foot, of lip, of eye, of brow, I see their antique pen would have express'd Even such a beauty as you master now.
Page 144 - When to the sessions of sweet silent thought I summon up remembrance of things past, I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought, And with old woes new wail my dear time's waste...
Page 15 - GATHER ye rosebuds while ye may, Old Time is still a-flying : And this same flower that smiles to-day To-morrow will be dying.
Page 105 - As it fell upon a day, In the merry month of May, Sitting in a pleasant shade Which a grove of myrtles made...
Page 123 - Philomel her voice shall raise ? You violets that first appear, By your pure purple mantles known Like the proud virgins of the year, As if the spring were all your own ; What are you when the rose is blown ? So, when my mistress shall be seen In form and beauty of her mind, By virtue first, then choice, a Queen, Tell me, if she were not design'd Th...
Page 41 - Thy gowns, thy shoes, thy beds of roses, Thy cap, thy kirtle, and thy posies, Soon break, soon wither, soon forgotten, In folly ripe, in reason rotten.