The World's Best Poetry ...

Forsideomslag
John Vance Cheney, Sir Charles G. D. Roberts, Charles Francis Richardson, Francis Hovey Stoddard, John Raymond Howard
J. D. Morris, 1904

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Side 405 - She was a Phantom of delight When first she gleamed upon my sight; A lovely Apparition , sent To be a moment's ornament; Her eyes as stars of Twilight fair; Like Twilight's, too, her dusky hair; But all things else about her drawn From May-time and the cheerful Dawn ; A dancing Shape, an Image gay, To haunt, to startle, and waylay.
Side 365 - O'er other creatures : yet when I approach Her loveliness, so absolute she seems, And in herself complete, so well to know Her own, that what she wills to do or say Seems wisest, virtuousest, discreetest, best...
Side 354 - Let me not to the marriage of true minds Admit impediments. Love is not love Which alters when it alteration finds, Or bends with the remover to remove: O, no ! it is an ever-fixed mark, That looks on tempests and is never shaken; It is the star to every wandering bark, Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Side 187 - She'd come again, and with a greedy ear Devour up my discourse. Which I observing, Took once a pliant hour, and found good means To draw from her a prayer of earnest heart That I would all my pilgrimage dilate, Whereof by parcels she had something heard, But not intentively. I did consent, And often did beguile her of her tears, When I did speak of some distressful stroke That my youth suffered. My story being done, She gave me for my pains a world of sighs; She swore, in faith, 'twas strange, 'twas...
Side 134 - Thy gowns, thy shoes, thy beds of roses, Thy cap, thy kirtle, and thy posies, Soon break, soon wither, soon forgotten,— In folly ripe, in reason rotten. Thy belt of straw and ivy buds, Thy coral clasps and amber studs,— All these in me no means can move To come to thee and be thy love.
Side xxviii - Drink to me only with thine eyes, And I will pledge with mine; Or leave a kiss but in the cup And I'll not look for wine. The thirst that from the soul doth rise Doth ask a drink divine; But might I of Jove's nectar sup, I would not change for thine.
Side 388 - Her feet beneath her petticoat Like little mice stole in and out, As if they feared the light: But, oh ! she dances such a way— No sun upon an Easter day Is half so fine a sight.
Side 262 - mong Graemes of the Netherby clan ; Forsters, Fenwicks, and Musgraves, they rode and they ran : There was racing and chasing on Cannobie Lee, But the lost bride of Netherby ne'er did they see. So daring in love, and so dauntless in war, Have ye e'er heard of gallant like young Lochinvar?
Side 69 - Love in my bosom like a bee Doth suck his sweet: Now with his wings he plays with me, Now with his feet. Within mine eyes he makes his nest, His bed amidst my tender breast; My kisses are his daily feast, And yet he robs me of my rest. Ah, wanton, will ye?
Side 144 - And that he crossed the mountain-woods, Nor rested day nor night ; That sometimes from the savage den, And sometimes from the darksome shade, And sometimes starting...

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