![Poetical Remains of French Laurence and Richard Laurence [Ed.] With a Brief Memoir of Each Author [By H. Cotton]](/jacket/500x500/9781230236612.jpg)
Publisher's Synopsis
Ce livre historique peut contenir de nombreuses coquilles et du texte manquant. Les acheteurs peuvent generalement telecharger une copie gratuite scannee du livre original (sans les coquilles) aupres de l'editeur. Non reference. Non illustre. 1872 edition. Extrait: ... murmur wailing, Now wildly shriek the blasts, and shrilly High then pile the flame and higher; Wake to social joy the lyre; And with cups to beauty crowned Warm the loitering pulse to bound. Wandering in lonely woe, the lover Moans to the conscious moon his story, Whose orb the driving clouds discover In dreary gleams of sickly glory. Me, where festal tapers shine, Eloquence that glows with wine, Eyes that speak, and looks that dare, Me more please, --and more the fair. Now gusty beats the shower descending, Now drops in tears of sober sorrow, Thus o'er our joys may-storms impending In various ruin rush ere morrow. Let the morrow frown or lour, Fate indulgent gives this hour. Wise then, what ye may, secure: Pleasures past alone are sure. ODE IV. INVOCATION OF THE ZEPHYRS Ye, before whose genial breath Hovering Death, Girt with troops of pale diseases, Quits th' usurp'd domain of air; Where, oh! where, Linger ye, propitious breezes? Hither, where my languid maid Wooes your aid, Come, with balmy spirit blowing; Gentle harbingers of Spring, Hither bring Health in rosy beauty glowing. Bright-eyed Joy to Youth allied At her side, While with giddy gesture after Trip gay sport of wilder glance, Jest, and Dance, Dimpled Smiles, and sleek-browed Laughter. Joy-born Mirth shall lead the train, Soon again Her each sprightlier Love shall follow; All who from the brow defy, All who lie In the dimple's treacherous hollow. So my song your praise shall tell; So my shell Pour to you the liquid measures; Soft, as when your downy wings Fan the strings, Murmuring sweetly pensive pleasures. Ah! no such reward ye seek O'er that cheek, Blushing if she meets my gazes; O'er those beaming orbs of love, Free to..."
