Página 112 - Busy, curious, thirsty fly, Drink with me, and drink as I ; Freely welcome to my cup, Couldst thou sip and sip it up. Make the most of life you may ; Life is short, and wears away. " Both alike are mine and thine, Hastening quick to their decline ; Thine's a summer, mine no more, Though repeated to threescore ; Threescore summers, when they're gone, Will appear as short as one.
Página 20 - When in the slippery paths of youth With heedless steps I ran, Thine arm unseen convey'd me safe, And led me up to man.
Página 92 - Susan, Susan, lovely dear, My vows shall ever true remain; Let me kiss off that falling tear; We only part to meet again. Change as ye list, ye winds; my heart shall be The faithful compass that still points to thee. "Believe not what the landsmen say, Who tempt with doubts thy constant mind: They'll tell thee sailors when away, In every port a mistress find : Yes, yes, believe them when they tell thee so, For thou art present wheresoe'er I go.
Página 39 - Soon as the evening shades prevail, The moon takes up the wondrous tale, And nightly to the listening earth Repeats the story of her birth; Whilst all the stars that round her burn, And all the planets in their turn, Confirm the tidings as they roll, And spread the truth from pole to pole.
Página 34 - Then see the sorrows of my heart, Ere yet it be too late ; And hear my Saviour's dying groans, To give those sorrows weight. VI. For never shall my soul despair Her pardon to procure, Who knows thine only Son has died To make her pardon sure.
Página 124 - Cynthia, turn, he said: The hunted hind lies close in yonder brake. Loud Cupid laugh'd, to see the god's mistake ; And laughing, cried, Learn better, great divine, To know thy kindred, and to honour mine. Rightly advis'd, far hence thy sister seek, Or on Meander's bank, or Latmus
Página i - I love the memory of Vinny Bourne. I think him a better Latin poet than Tibullus, Propertius, Ausonius, or any of the writers in his way, except Ovid, and not at all inferior to him.
Página 92 - So the sweet lark, high poised in air. Shuts close his pinions to his breast (If, chance, his mate's shrill call he hear), And drops at once into her nest.