The Works of the English Poets, from Chaucer to Cowper, 4 tomas

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Alexander Chalmers
J. Johnson, 1810

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407 psl. - Shake hands forever; cancel all our vows; And when we meet at any time again, Be it not seen in either of our brows That we one jot of former love retain.
430 psl. - FAIR stood the wind for France, When we our sails advance, Nor now to prove our chance Longer will tarry; But putting to the main, At Kaux, the mouth of Seine, With all his martial train, Landed King Harry.
399 psl. - Next Marlowe, bathed in the Thespian springs, Had in him those brave translunary things That the first poets had ; his raptures were All air and fire, which made his verses clear ; For that fine madness still he did retain Which rightly should possess a poet's brain.
430 psl. - They now to fight are gone, Armour on armour shone, Drum now to drum did groan, To hear was wonder ; That with the cries they make, The very earth did shake, Trumpet to trumpet spake, Thunder to thunder. Well it thine age became, O noble...
427 psl. - And cheerfully at sea, Success you still entice, To get the pearl and gold, And ours to hold, Virginia, Earth's only paradise...
400 psl. - Where I to thee eternity shall give When nothing else remaineth of these days ; And queens hereafter shall be glad to live Upon the alms of thy superfluous praise. Virgins and matrons, reading these my rhymes, Shall be so much delighted with thy story That they shall...
121 psl. - And could have wish'd him starved. Pigwiggen gladly would commend Some token to queen Mab to send, If sea or land him aught could lend Were worthy of her wearing. At length this lover doth devise A bracelet made of emmets eyes, A thing he thought that she would prize, No whit her state impairing.
430 psl. - With Spanish yew so strong, Arrows a cloth-yard long, That like to serpents stung, Piercing the weather ; None from his fellow starts, But, playing manly parts, And like true English hearts, Stuck close together.
121 psl. - Which for the colours did excel, The fair Queen Mab becoming well, So lively was the limning; The seat the soft wool of the bee, The cover, gallantly to see, The wing of a pied butterflee; I trow 'twas simple trimming. The wheels composed of crickets...
427 psl. - Frighting the wide heaven. And in regions far, Such heroes bring ye forth As those from whom we came; And plant our name Under that star Not known unto our North.