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And gingerbread y-rare, now certes, doubly Yet nursed with skill, what dazzling fruits ap

sweet.

See, to their seats they hie with merry glee,
And in beseemly order sitten there;
All but the wight of bum y-galled; he

pear!

E'en now sagacious Foresight points to show A little heedless bench of bishops here, And there a chancellor in embryo, Or bard sublime, if bard may e'er be so,

Abhorreth bench, and stool, and form, and As Shakspere, Milton, names that ne'er shall

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If so I deem aright, transcending worth and But now Dan Phoebus gains the middle sky, fame.

Behind some door, in melancholy thought,

Mindless of food, he, dreary caitiff! pines;

And Liberty unbars her prison door; And like a rushing torrent out they fly, And now the grassy cirque have covered

o'er

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But, I remember, when the fight was done, When I was dry with rage, and extreme toil, Breathless and faint, leaning upon my sword, Came there a certain lord, neat, trimly dress'd,

Fresh as a bridegroom; and his chin, new reap'd,

Show'd like a stubble-land at harvest-home;
He was perfumed like a milliner;

And 'twixt his finger and his thumb he held
A pouncet-box, which ever and anon
He gave his nose, and took't away again;—
Who, therewith angry, when it next came
there,

Took it in snuff:-and still he smil'd, and talk'd;

And, as the soldiers bore dead bodies by,
He call'd them-untaught knaves, unman-
nerly,

To bring a slovenly unhandsome, corse
Betwixt the wind and his nobility.
With many holiday and lady terms
He question'd me; among the rest demanded
My prisoners, in your majesty's behalf.
I then, all smarting, with my wounds being
cold,

To be so pester'd with a popinjay,
Out of my grief and my impatience,

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Answer'd neglectingly, I know not what;
He should, or he should not;-for he made me
mad,

To see him shine so brisk, and smell so sweet,
And talk so like a waiting-gentlewoman,
Of guns, and drums, and wounds (God save
the mark!):

And telling me, the sovereign'st thing on earth

Was parmaceti, for an inward bruise;
And that it was great pity, so it was,
That villainous saltpetre should be digg'd
Out of the bowels of the harmless earth,
Which many a good tall fellow had destroy'd
So cowardly; and, but for these vile guns,
He would himself have been a soldier.
This bald unjointed chat of his, my lord,
I answer'd indirectly, as I said;
And, I beseech you, let not his report
Come current for an accusation,

Betwixt my love and your high majesty.
WILLIAM SHAKSPERE.

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In secret shadow, far from all men's sight; From her fair head her fillet she undight, And laid her stole aside; her angel's face, As the great eye of heaven, shined bright, And made a sunshine in the shady place; Did never mortal eye behold such heavenly grace.

It fortuned, out of the thickest wood
A ramping lion rushed suddenly,
Hunting full greedy after salvage blood:
Soon as the royal virgin he did spy,
With gaping mouth at her ran greedily,
To have at once devoured her tender corse:
But to the prey when as he drew more nigh,
His bloody rage assuaged with remorse,
And, with the sight amazed, forgot his furious
force.

Instead thereof, he kissed her weary feet, And licked her lily hands with fawning

tongue;

As he her wronged innocence did meet.
O how can beauty master the most strong,
And simple truth subdue avenging wrong,

OUGHT is there under heaven's wide Whose yielded pride and proud submission,

hollowness,

That moves more dear compassion of mind, Than beauty brought to unworthy wretched

ness

Through envy's snares or fortune's freaks unkind.

I, whether lately through her brightness blind,

Or through allegiance and fast fealty,
Which I do owe unto all womankind,
Feel my heart pressed with so great agony
When such I see, that all for pity I could die.

Yet she, most faithful lady, all this while
Forsaken, woful, solitary maid,
Far from all people's press, as in exile,
In wilderness and wasteful deserts strayed,
To seek her knight; who subtily betrayed
Through that late vision which th' enchanter

wrought,

Had her abandoned; she, of nought afraid, Through woods and wasteness wide him daily sought;

Yet wished tidings none of him unto her brought.

One day, nigh weary of the irksome way,
From her unhasty beast she did alight;
And on the grass her dainty limbs did lay,

Still dreading death, when she had marked

long,

Her heart 'gan melt in great compassion ; And drizzling tears did shed for pure affection.

"The lion, lord of every beast in field,” Quoth she, "his princely puissance doth abate,

And mighty proud to humble weak does yield.
Forgetful of the hungry rage, which late
Him pricked, in pity of my sad estate :-
But he, my lion, and my noble lord,
How does he find in cruel heart to hate
Her, that him lov'd, and ever most adored
As the god of my life? why hath he me ab-
horred ?"

Redounding tears did choke th' end of her plaint,

Which softly echoed from the neighbor wood;
And, sad to see her sorrowful constraint,
The kingly beast upon her gazing stood;
With pity calmed, down fell his angry mood.
At last, in close heart shutting up her pain,
Arose the virgin born of heavenly brood,
And to her snowy palfrey got again,
To seek her strayed champion if she might
attain.

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RECEIVED one morning a message from poor Goldsmith that he was in great distress, and as it was not in his power to come to me, begging I would come to him as soon as possible. I sent him a guinea, and promised to come to him directly. I accordingly went as soon as I was dressed, and found that his landlady had arrested him for his rent, at which he was in a violent passion. I perceived that he had already changed my guinea, and had got a bottle of madeira and a glass before him. I put the cork into the bottle, desired he would be calm, and began to talk to him of the means by which he might be extricated. He then told me that he had a novel ready for the press, which he produced to me. I looked into it, and saw its merit; told the landlady I would soon return; and having gone to a bookseller, sold it for sixty pounds. I brought Goldsmith the money, and he discharged his rent, not without rating his landlady in a high tone for having used him so ill.

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