Sidor som bilder
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A fitting place for fun'ral pomps to find, Which were in honor of the dead design'd.

And after long debate, at last he found (As love itself had mark'd the spot of ground)

That

grove for ever green, that conscious laund,

Where he with Palamon fought hand to hand:

That, where he fed his amorous desires 900 With soft complaints, and felt his hottest fires,

There other flames might waste his earthly part,

And burn his limbs, where love had burn'd his heart.

This once resolv'd, the peasants were enjoin'd

Sear wood, and firs, and dodder'd oaks to find.

With sounding axes to the grove they go, Fell, split, and lay the fuel on a row, Vulcanian food: a bier is next prepar'd, On which the lifeless body should be rear'd,

Cover'd with cloth of gold, on which was laid

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What then remains, but, after past annoy,
To take the good vicissitude of joy?
To thank the gracious gods for what they
give,

Possess our souls, and while we live, to live?

Ordain we then two sorrows to combine, And in one point th' extremes of grief to join;

That thence resulting joy may be renew'd, As jarring notes in harmony conclude. Then I propose that Palamon shall be

What makes all this, but Jupiter the king,In marriage join'd with beauteous Emily; At whose command we perish, and we

spring?

Then 't is our best, since thus ordain'd to die, To make a virtue of necessity;

Take what he gives, since to rebel is vain; The bad grows better, which we well sustain:

And could we choose the time, and choose aright,

"Tis best to die, our honor at the height. When we have done our ancestors no shame,

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For which already I have gain'd th' assent
Of my free people in full parliament.
Long love to her has borne the faithful
knight,

And well deserv'd, had Fortune done him right:

"T is time to mend her fault, since Emily By Arcite's death from former vows is free. If you, fair sister, ratify th' accord, And take him for your husband and your lord,

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"T is no dishonor to confer your grace
On one descended from a royal race;
And were he less, yet years of service past
From grateful souls exact reward at last:
Pity is Heav'n's and yours; nor can she find
A throne so soft as in a woman's mind."

He said; she blush'd; and, as o'eraw'd

by might,

Seem'd to give Theseus what she gave the knight.

Then, turning to the Theban, thus he said: "Small arguments are needful to persuade Your temper to comply with my command;'

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And speaking thus, he gave Emilia's hand. Smil'd Venus, to behold her own true knight

Obtain the conquest, tho' he lost the fight; And bless'd with nuptial bliss the sweet laborious night.

Eros and Anteros, on either side, One fir'd the bridegroom, and one warm'd the bride;

And long-attending Hymen from above

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ΤΟ

THE END OF THE THIRD BOOK

MY HONOR'D KINSMAN, JOHN DRIDEN, OF CHESTERTON, IN THE COUNTY OF HUNTINGDON, ESQUIRE

How blest is he, who leads a country life, Unvex'd with anxious cares, and void of strife!

Who, studying peace and shunning civil rage,

Enjoy'd his youth, and now enjoys his age: All who deserve his love, he makes his own; And, to be lov'd himself, needs only to be known.

Just, good, and wise, contending neighbors come,

From your award to wait their final doom; And, foes before, return in friendship home.

Without their cost, you terminate the

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Thus have you shunn'd, and shun, the married state,

Trusting as little as you can to fate.

No porter guards the passage of your

door,

T'admit the wealthy, and exclude the poor; For God, who gave the riches, gave the heart,

To sanctify the whole, by giving part. Heav'n, who foresaw the will, the means has wrought,

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And to the second son a blessing brought; The first-begotten had his father's share, But you, like Jacob, are Rebecca's heir. So may your stores and fruitful fields increase;

And ever be you blest, who live to bless.
As Ceres sow'd, where'er her chariot flew;
As Heav'n in desarts rain'd the bread of
dew;

So free to many, to relations most,
You feed with manna your own Israel host.
With crowds attended of your ancient

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You seek the champian sports or sylvan chase;

With well-breath'd beagles you surround the wood,

Ev'n then industrious of the common good; And often have you brought the wily fox To suffer for the firstlings of the flocks; Chas'd ev'n amid the folds, and made to bleed,

Like felons, where they did the murd❜rous

deed.

This fiery game your active youth maintain'd,

Not yet by years extinguish'd, tho' restrain'd:

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