The Pembroke Booklets: First Series

Framsida
J. R. Tutin, 1905

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Sida 36 - Cause I see a woman kind; Or a well disposed nature Joined with a lovely feature? Be she meeker, kinder, than Turtle-dove or pelican, If she be not so to me, What care I how kind she be?
Sida 27 - LEAVE me, O Love, which reachest but to dust; And thou, my mind, aspire to higher things ; Grow rich in that which never taketh rust: Whatever fades, but fading pleasure brings. Draw in thy beams, and humble all thy might To that sweet yoke where lasting freedoms be ; Which breaks the clouds, and opens forth the light That doth both shine and give us sight to see.
Sida 14 - Town-folks my strength; a daintier judge applies His praise to sleight which from good use doth rise; Some lucky wits impute it but to chance...
Sida 13 - Of those fierce darts, Despair at me doth throw; 0 make in me those civil wars to cease : 1 will good tribute pay, if thou do so. Take thou of me smooth pillows, sweetest bed ; A chamber, deaf to noise, and blind to light; A rosy garland, and a weary head. And if these things, as being thine by right, Move not thy heavy grace, thou shalt in me Livelier than elsewhere Stella's image see.
Sida 63 - To hear him speak, and sweetly smile, You were in Paradise the while. A sweet attractive kind of grace ,* A full assurance given by looks ; Continual comfort in a face. The lineaments of Gospel bookt — I trow that count'nance cannot lye, Whose thoughts are legible in the eye.
Sida 31 - No more, my dear, no more these counsels try; 0 give my passions leave to run their race; Let Fortune lay on me her worst disgrace; Let folk o'ercharged with brain against me cry; Let clouds bedim my face, break in mine eye; Let me no steps, but of lost labour, trace; Let all the earth with scorn recount my case— But do not will me from my love to fly.
Sida 53 - Before I understood this place Appointed for my second race, Or taught my soul to fancy aught But a white, celestial thought; When yet I had not walked above A mile or two from my first love, And looking back — at that short space — Could see a glimpse of his bright face...
Sida 21 - Highway, since you my chief Parnassus be; And that my Muse, to some ears not unsweet, Tempers her words to trampling horses
Sida 22 - Thine eyes my pride, thy lips mine history: If thou praise not, all other praise is shame. Nor so ambitious am I as to frame A nest for my young praise in laurel tree : In truth I swear, I wish not there should be Graved in my epitaph a poet's name. Ne, if I would, could I just title make, That any laud thereof to me should grow, Without my plumes from others...
Sida 55 - Dear, harmless age! the short, swift span, Where weeping virtue parts with man; Where love without lust dwells, and bends What way we please, without self-ends. An age of mysteries! which he Must live twice, that would Gods face see; Which Angels guard, and with it play, Angels! which foul men drive away.

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