Reuben Apsley. By the author of Brambletye house


À l'intérieur du livre

Pages sélectionnées

Autres éditions - Tout afficher

Expressions et termes fréquents

Fréquemment cités

Page 182 - TELL me not, Sweet, I am unkind, That from the nunnery Of thy chaste breast, and quiet mind, To war and arms I fly. True; a new mistress now I chase, The first foe in the field; And with a stronger faith embrace A sword, a horse, a shield. Yet this inconstancy is such, As you too shall adore; I could not love thee, dear, so much, Loved I not honour more.
Page 279 - Enlarged winds, that curl the flood, Know no such liberty. Stone walls do not a prison make, Nor iron bars a cage; Minds innocent and quiet take That for an hermitage; If I have freedom in my love And in my soul am free, Angels alone, that soar above, Enjoy such liberty.
Page 219 - Sweet are the thoughts that savour of content; The quiet mind is richer than a crown; Sweet are the nights in careless slumber spent; The poor estate scorns fortune's angry frown ; Such sweet content, such minds, such sleep, such bliss, Beggars enjoy, when princes oft do miss. The homely house that harbours quiet rest, The cottage that affords no pride nor care, The mean that 'grees with country music best, The sweet consort of mirth and...
Page 204 - Were't in mortals' power to do. She doth tell me where to borrow Comfort in the midst of sorrow ; Makes the desolatest place To her presence be a grace ; And the blackest discontents Be her fairest ornaments.
Page 224 - In the meantime, and always, (with my particular devoirs to Miss Hartfield,) I beg you to accept the assurance of the real regard with which I have the honour to be, " My dear Sir, " Your very devoted humble servant, " And faithful friend, "AMBROSE JESSOP." " Whoop! Curse the pragmatical prig! " cried the Squire, tearing up the letter in a passion, and scattering the fragments in the air; " I was wrong to ask such a cold-blooded, pompous — 'sblood! I should like to double-thong him with my hunting-whip.
Page 42 - AIXT amorist ! what, dost thou think To taste love's honey, and not drink One dram of gall ? or to devour A world of sweet, and taste no sour ? Dost thou ever think to enter Th' Elysian fields, that dar'st not venture In Charon's barge ? a lover's mind Must use to sail with every wind. He that loves, and fears to try, Learns his mistress to deny. Doth she chide thee ? 'tis to shew it That thy coldness makes her do it.
Page 358 - But thus saith the Lord, Even the captives of the mighty shall be taken away, and the prey of the terrible shall be delivered: for I will contend with him that contendeth with thee, and I will save thy children.
Page 349 - Oh dismal dole, when the secret soul Is mock'd by the outward showing ; When we dress the eyes in a gay disguise, While the tears are inward flowing ; When groans and grief would be a relief, But with carols we keep them under, And a laugh we start when the throbbing heart Is ready to burst asunder ! Oh wound most sore in the bosom's core, That mocks relief or healing, When the man we love all others above At our feet is fondly kneeling ; When we deeply yearn his vows to...
Page 135 - And lovers' songs shall turn to holy psalms : A man at arms must now sit on his knees, And feed on prayers that are old age's alms. And so from court to cottage I depart: My saint is sure of mine unspotted heart.
Page 262 - No rocket breaking in the air Can with her starry head compare. Such ropes of pearl her arms encumber She scarce can deal the cards at ombre; So many rings each finger freight They tremble with the mighty weight; The like in England ne'er was seen Since Holbein drew Hal and his Queen.

Informations bibliographiques