Elegies on several occasions. Odes, songs, ballads, &c. Levities; or, Pieces of humour. Moral pieces

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Page 242 - Goody, good-woman, gossip, n'aunt, forsooth, Or dame, the sole additions she did hear; Yet these she challenged, these she held right dear ; Ne would esteem him act as mought behove Who should not honour'd eld with these revere ; For never title yet so mean could prove, But there was eke a mind which did that title love.
Page 242 - Twas her own country bred the flock so fair; 'Twas her own labour did the fleece prepare...
Page 241 - And at the door imprisoning board is seen, Lest weakly wights of smaller size should stray; Eager, perdie, to bask in sunny day! The noises intermix'd, which thence resound, Do learning's little tenement betray; Where sits the dame, disguised in look profound And eyes her fairy throng, and turns her wheel around.
Page 142 - Not a pine in my grove is there seen, But with tendrils of woodbine is bound; Not a beech's more beautiful green. But a sweet-briar entwines it around. Not my fields in the prime of the year, More charms than my cattle unfold; Not a brook that is limpid and clear, But it glitters with fishes of gold.
Page 85 - Yet fhall fuch bofoms claim a part In all that glads the human heart; Yet thefe the fpirits, form'd to judge and prove All nature's charms immenfe, and heaven's unbounded love.
Page 102 - She faw him wheel, and frifk, and bound ; From rock to rock purfue his way, And, on the fearful margin, play. / Pleas'd on his various freaks to dwell, She faw him climb my ruftic cell ; Thence eye my lawns with verdure bright, And feem all ravifh'd at the fight.
Page 145 - She is every way pleasing to me. 0 you that have been of her train, Come and join in my amorous lays! 1 could lay down my life for the swain That will sing but a song in her praise.
Page 87 - Had giv'n the robe with grace to flow, Had taught exotic gems to glow ; And emulous of nature's pow'r, Mimick'd the plume, the leaf, the flow'r...
Page 141 - To visit some far distant shrine, If he bear but a relique away, Is happy, nor heard to repine. Thus, widely remov'd from the fair, Where my vows, my devotion I owe ; Soft hope is the relique I bear, And my solace wherever I go.
Page 147 - I have nothing to do but to weep. Yet do not my folly reprove ; She was fair — and my passion begun ; She smil'd — and I could not but love ; She is faithless — and I am undone.

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