Striking likenesses; or, The votaries of fashion, Band 3

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Seite 45 - O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright! It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night Like a rich jewel in an Ethiop's ear; Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear!
Seite 163 - Tis almost morning; I would have thee gone: And yet no further than a wanton's bird; Who lets it hop a little from her hand, Like a poor prisoner in his twisted gyves, And with a silk thread plucks it back again, So loving-jealous of his liberty.
Seite 44 - Alack, there lies more peril in thine eye Than twenty of their swords : look thou but sweet, And I am proof against their enmity.
Seite 44 - Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven, Having some business, do entreat her eyes To twinkle in their spheres till they return. What if her eyes were there, they in her head ; The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars, As daylight doth a lamp ; her- eyes in heaven Would through the airy region stream so bright, That birds would sing, and think it were not night.
Seite 98 - Who take the ruffian billows by the top, Curling their monstrous heads, and hanging them With deaf'ning clamours in the slippery clouds, That, with the hurly, death itself awakes ? Canst thou, O partial sleep! give thy repose To the wet sea-boy in an hour so rude; And, in the calmest and most stillest night, With all appliances and means to boot, Deny it to a king ? Then, happy low, lie down ! Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.
Seite 46 - But, soft! What light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun. Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, Who is already sick and pale with grief, That thou her maid art far more fair than she.
Seite 38 - ... blows, And quaff the palm's rich nectar as it glows; The oral tale of elder time rehearse, And chant the rude traditionary verse With those, the loved companions of his youth, When life was luxury, and friendship truth. Ah ! why should Virtue...
Seite 76 - O beware, my lord, of jealousy ; It is the green-ey'd monster, which doth mock The meat it feeds on...
Seite 38 - MEMORY'S ceaseless sun-shine blest, The home of Happiness, an honest breast. But most we mark the wonders of her reign, When Sleep has locked the senses in her chain.
Seite 75 - I have garner'd up my heart, Where either I must live, or bear no life; The fountain from the which my current runs...

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