The Queen's Lieges, Volumes 1-2

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T.C. Newby, 1846
 

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Page 35 - The barge she sat in, like a burnish'd throne, Burn'd on the water : the poop was beaten gold ; Purple the sails, and so perfumed, that The winds were love-sick with them...
Page 163 - Yea, even that which Mischief meant most harm Shall in the happy trial prove most glory.
Page 1 - They, looking back, all the eastern side beheld Of Paradise, so late their happy seat, Waved over by that flaming brand; the gate With dreadful faces thronged and fiery arms. Some natural tears they dropped, but wiped them soon; The world was all before them, where to choose Their place of rest, and Providence their guide.
Page 93 - Beyond the flight of time, Beyond the reign of death, There surely is some blessed clime Where life is not a breath. Nor life's affections transient fire, Whose sparks fly upward and expire.
Page 23 - Times go by turns, and chances change by course, From foul to fair, from better hap to worse. The sea of Fortune doth not ever flow, She draws her favours to the lowest ebb ; Her tides have...
Page 132 - Kent. Vex not his ghost. O, let him pass! He hates him That would upon the rack of this tough world Stretch him out longer.
Page 142 - But what will not ambition and revenge Descend to? Who aspires must down as low As high he soared, obnoxious, first or last, To basest things.
Page 294 - It is the mind, that maketh good or ill, That maketh wretch or happy, rich or poor : For some, that hath abundance at his will, Hath not enough, but wants in greatest store ; And other, that hath little, asks no more, But in that little is both rich and wise ; For wisdom is most riches : fools therefore They are, which fortunes do by vows devise ; Sith each unto himself his life may fortunise.
Page 74 - So cruel prison how could betide, alas, As proud Windsor? Where I in lust and joy With a king's son my childish years did pass In greater feast than Priam's sons of Troy; Where each sweet place returns a taste full sour: The large green courts where we were wont to hove With eyes cast up into the maidens...
Page 132 - I snatch'd her from the rigid north, Her native bed, on which bleak Boreas blew, And bore her nearer to the sun...

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