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Updated: June 12, 2025
I see, I know my danger, yet I must permit it: love, soft bewitching love will have it so, that cannot deny what my feebler honour forbids; and though I tremble with fear, yet love suggests, it will be an age to night: I long for my undoing; for oh I cannot stand the batteries of your eyes and tongue; these fears, these conflicts I have a thousand times a-day; it is pitiful sometimes to see me; on one hand a thousand Cupids all gay and smiling present Philander with all the beauties of his sex, with all the softness in his looks and language those gods of love can inspire, with all the charms of youth adorn'd, bewitching all, and all transporting; on the other hand, a poor lost virgin languishing and undone, sighing her willing rape to the deaf shades and fountains, filling the woods with cries, swelling the murmuring rivulets with tears, her noble parents with a generous rage reviling her, and her betray'd sister loading her bow'd head with curses and reproaches, and all about her looking forlorn and sad.
"I stanch with ice my burning breast, With silence balm my whirling brain; O Brandan! to this hour of rest That Joppan leper's ease was pain." Tears started to Saint Brandan's eyes; He bow'd his head, he breathed a prayer Then look'd, and lo, the frosty skies! The iceberg, and no Judas there! The island of St.
I have not loved the world, nor the world me; I have not flattered its rank breath, nor bow'd To its idolatries a patient knee Nor coin'd my cheek to smiles nor cried aloud In worship of an echo; in the crowd They could not deem me one of such; I stood Among them, but not of them; in a shroud Of thoughts which were not their thoughts, and still could, Had I not filled my mind which thus itself subdued.
I bow'd very low, and as I left the room I vow'd I never wou'd, and that my proud heart should never be humbled by the outside of a fine woman. About an hour after, I whipp'd into my chaise for London, and have never seen her since." There was in the place a gay fellow half fuddled, who offered to jump in, and swore, though he liked not the liquor, he would have the toast.
Love all things and rejoice!" And found warm tears were stealing down her cheeks. The mystery of love, of love, of love, Of hope, of joy, of life itself, she felt; The crown of life, which she had sacrificed In scornful pride for lust of power and place. The lady bow'd her head, and o'er her swept A wave of anguish, and she knew despair.
Our Pilgrim Fathers accepted these absurd, tautological verses gladly, and sang them gratefully; but we know the spirit of poesy could never have existed in them, else they would have fought hard against abandoning such majestic psalms as Sternhold's "The Lord descended from above and bow'd the heavens hye And underneath his feete he cast the darkness of the skye.
Wherefore his brethren, when they came to treat With him for corn, bow'd down e'en at his feet: And he no sooner saw them but he knew them, And show'd himself extremely strange unto them: And very roughly asked who they were, From whence they came, and what their bus'ness there. And they made answer, We thy servants from The land of Canaan to buy food are come.
See how Aurora throws her fair Fresh-quilted colours through the air: Get up, sweet slug-a-bed, and see The dew bespangling herb and tree, Each flower has wept and bow'd toward the east Above an hour since; yet you not dress'd; Nay! not so much as out of bed?
Ah, Sir, the late Petition which I made you Might have inform'd you why these Knees are bow'd; 'Twas but this night I did confess I lov'd him, And you would have allow'd that Passion in me, Had he not been Erminia's: And can you question now what this Address meant? Org. Remember, Sir, Erminia was my Daughter. Gal. And, Sir, remember that I am your Daughter. Org.
They heard thee, Teresa, the Teuton, the Gaul, Who have raised the rude thrones of the North on our fall; They heard thee, and bow'd to the might of thy song; Like love went thy steps o'er the hearts of the strong; As the moon to the air, as the soul to the clay, To the void of this earth was the breath of thy lay.
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