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Cherry ripe, cherry ripa, ripe, I cry,
Her lips blush deeper sweets.
LISTEN. On the green bank I lay, and listened long; Nor till her lay was ended could I move, But wished to dwell for ever in the grove.-Dryden.
With head upraised, and look intent,
Who with a little cannot be content,
Man wants but little here below,
Nor wants that little long.
And dig deep trenches in thy beauty's field,
Milton. Leave to low buffoons by custom bred, And form’d by nature to be kick'd and fed, The vulgar and unenvied task to hit All persons, right or wrong, with random wit. Our wise forefathers, born in sober days, Resign'd to fools the tart and witty phrase; The motley coat gave warning for the jest, Excused the wound, and sanctified the pest. But we, from high to low, all strive to sneer, Will all be wits, and not the livery wear.
LIVING. “LIVE while you live!” the epicure would say, And seize the pleasures of the present day; “Live while you live!” the sacred preacher cries, And give to God each moment as it flies; Lord, in my view let both united be! I live in pleasure, while I live in Thee.
Dr. Johnson. When all the fiercer passions cease,
(The glory and disgrace of youth ;)
Can listen to the voice of truth;
And how to spare, to spend, to give;
'T is then we rightly learn to live. Crabbe.
Dryden. Why do I stay within this hated place, Where every object shocks my loathing eyes?—Rowe.
LOCKS. Two locks, that graceful hung behind In equal curls, and well conspired to deck With shining ringlets her smooth ivory neck.–Pope. Though time has thinned thy flowing locks,
And turned their raven hue to grey, The love within my bosom mocks
At change, and time, and dim decay; More beautiful thou seem'st to me,
With those few locks of silver hair, Than when in youth I courted thee,
And felt and called thee wondrous fair. Anon.
LOFTINESS. My lowly verse may loftily arise,
And lift itself unto the highest skies. Spenser. He, who ascends to mountain-tops, shall find
Their loftiest peaks most wrapt in clouds and snow; He, who surpasses or subdues mankind,
Must look down on the hate of those below. Though far above the sun of glory glow,
And far beneath the earth and ocean spread, Round him are ioy rocks, and loudly blow
Contending tempests his naked head. Byron.
LONDON A MIGHTY mass of brick, and smoke, and shipping, Dirty and dusky, but as wide as eye Could reach, with here and there a sail just skipping In sight, then lost amidst the forestry Of masts; a wilderness of steeples peeping On tiptoe through their sea-coal canopy; A huge dun cupola, like a foolscap crown On a fool's head and there is London town!
Byron. And there is London !-England's heart and soul. By the proud flowing of her famous Thames, She circulates through countless lands and isles Her greatness; gloriously she rules, At once the awe and sceptre of the world.
The mystery of your loneliness, and find
Alone, amid the wide and desert world,
The feeling of sadness and longing,
That is not akin to pain,