The lark that shuns on lofty boughs to build, Her humble nest, lies silent in the field.
From Edmund Waller
To love is to believe, to hope, to know; Tis an essay, a taste of Heaven below!
Tea does our fancy aid, Repress those vapours which the head invade, And keeps that palace of the soul serene.
The seas are quiet when the winds give o'er; So calm are we when passions are no more!
Vexed sailors cursed the rain, for which poor shepherds prayed in vain.
Leaving the old, both worlds at once they view, That stand upon the threshold of the new.
All human things Of dearest value hang on slender strings.
Illustrious acts high raptures do infuse, And every conqueror creates a muse.
Poets lose half the praise they should have got, Could it be known what they discreetly blot.
And as pale sickness does invade, Your frailer part, the breaches made, In that fair lodging still more clear, Make the bright guest, your soul, appear.
4 perspectives
3 perspectives
2 perspectives
1 perspectives