The Dramatic Works and Poems of James Shirley,: Honoria and Mammon. Chabot, Admiral of France. The acardia. The triumph of peace. A contention for honour and riches. The triumph of beauty. Cupid and death. The contention of Ajax and Ulysses, &c. Poems

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John Murray, Albemarle Street., 1833
 

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Page 396 - The glories of our blood and state Are shadows, not substantial things ; There is no armour against fate ; Death lays his icy hand on kings : Sceptre and crown Must tumble down, And in the dust be equal made With the poor crooked scythe and spade.
Page 397 - ... may reap the field, And plant fresh laurels where they kill : But their strong nerves at last must yield ; They tame but one another still : Early or late They stoop to fate, And must give up their murmuring breath When they, pale captives, creep to death. The garlands wither on your brow; Then boast no more your mighty deeds! Upon Death's purple altar now See where the victor-victim bleeds. Your heads must come To the cold tomb: Only the actions of the just Smell sweet and blossom in their dust.
Page 355 - Devouring Famine, Plague, and War, Each able to undo mankind, Death's servile emissaries are ; Nor to these alone confined He hath at will More quaint and subtle ways to kill ; A smile or kiss, as he will use the art, Shall have the cunning skill to break a heart.
Page 427 - He was a person of a pleasant and facetious wit, and made many poems, (especially in the amorous way,) which, for the sharpness of the fancy, and the elegancy of the language in which that fancy was spread, were at least equal, if not superior, to any of that time...
Page 161 - But not the sun with all her amorous smiles, The dews of morning, or the tears of night, Can root her fibres in the earth again ; Or make her bosom kind, to growth and bearing : But the tree withers...
Page 91 - You cannot well judge what the main form is ; So men, that view him but in vulgar passes, Casting but lateral, or partial glances At what he is, suppose him weak, unjust, Bloody, and monstrous ; but stand free and fast, And judge him by no more than what you know Ingenuously, and by the right laid line Of truth, he truly will all styles deserve Of wise, just, good : a man, both soul and nerve.
Page 87 - As it was presented by her Majesties Servants, at the private House in Drury Lane.
Page 397 - Must tumble down, And in the dust be equal made With the poor crooked scythe and spade. Some men with swords may reap the field, And plant fresh laurels where they kill...
Page 454 - Give me a little plot of ground, Where might I with the sun agree, Though every day he walk the round My garden he should seldom see. Those tulips that such wealth display To court my eye, shall lose their name, Though now they listen, as if they Expected I should praise their flame. But I would see myself appear Within the violet's drooping head, On which a melancholy tear The discontented morn hath shed.
Page 459 - Now fie on foolish love, it not befits Or man or woman know it. Love was not meant for people in their wits, And they that fondly show it, Betray the straw and feathers in their brain, And shall have Bedlam for their pain : If single love be such a curse, To marry is to make it ten times worse.

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