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Of something without place or bound;

And seemed to give me spiritual right

To travel through that region bright。



The voice was soft; and she who spake

Was walking by her native lake:

The salutation had to me

The very sound of courtesy:

Its power was felt; and while my eye

Was fixed upon the glowing Sky;

The echo of the voice enwrought

A human sweetness with the thought

Of travelling through the world that lay

Before me in my endless way。



William Wordsworth '1770…1850'





A FAREWELL TO ARMS

(To Queen Elizabeth)



His golden locks Time hath to silver turned;

O Time too swift; O swiftness never ceasing!

His youth 'gainst time and age hath ever spurned;

But spurned in vain; youth waneth by increasing:

Beauty; strength; youth; are flowers but fading seen;

Duty; faith; love; are roots; and ever green。



His helmet now shall make a hive for bees;

And lovers' sonnets turned to holy psalms;

A man…at…arms must now serve on his knees;

And feed on prayers; which are Age his alms:

But though from court to cottage he depart;

His Saint is sure of his unspotted heart。



And when he saddest sits in homely cell;

He'll teach his swains this carol for a song; …

〃Blest be the hearts that wish my sovereign well;

Curst be the souls that think her any wrong。〃

Goddess; allow this aged man his right

To be your beadsman now that was your knight。



George Peele '1558?…1597?'





THE WORLD



The World's a bubble; and the life of Man

Less than a span:

In his conception wretched; … from the womb;

So to the tomb;

Curst from his cradle; and brought up to years

With cares and fears。

Who then to frail mortality shall trust;

But limns on water; or but writes in dust。



Yet whilst with sorrow here we live oppressed;

What life is best?

Courts are but only superficial schools

To dandle fools:

The rural parts are turned into a den

Of savage men;

And where's a city from foul vice so free;

But may be termed the worst of all the three?



Domestic cares afflict the husband's bed;

Or pains his head:

Those that live single; take it for a curse;

Or do things worse:

Some would have children; those that have them moan

Or wish them gone:

What is it; then; to have; or have no wife;

But single thraldom; or a double strife?



Our own affections still at home to please

Is a disease;

To cross the seas to any foreign soil;

Peril and toil;

Wars with their noise affright us; when they cease;

We are worse in peace:

… What then remains; but that we still should cry

For being born; or; being born; to die?



Francis Bacon '1561…1626'





〃WHEN THAT I WAS AND A LITTLE TINY BOY〃

From 〃Twelfth Night〃



When that I was and a little tiny boy;

With hey; ho; the wind and the rain;

A foolish thing was but a toy;

For the rain it raineth every day。



But when I came to man's estate;

With hey; ho; the wind and the rain;

'Gainst knaves and thieves men shut their gate;

For the rain it raineth every day。



But when I came; alas! to wive;

With hey; ho; the wind and the rain;

By swaggering could I never thrive;

For the rain it raineth every day。



But when I came unto my beds;

With hey; ho; the wind and the rain;

With toss…pots still had drunken heads;

For the rain it raineth every day。



A great while ago the world begun;

With hey; ho; the wind and the rain;

But that's all one; our play is done;

And we'll strive to please you every day。



William Shakespeare '1564…1616' 





OF THE LAST VERSES IN THE BOOK



When we for age could neither read nor write;

The subject made us able to indite;

The soul; with nobler resolutions decked;

The body stooping does herself erect。

No mortal parts are requisite to raise

Her that; unbodied; can her Maker praise。



The seas are quiet when the winds give o'er;

So calm are we when passions are no more。

For then we know how vain it was to boast

Of fleeting things; so certain to be lost。

Clouds of affection from our younger eyes

Conceal that emptiness which age descries。



The soul's dark cottage; battered and decayed;

Lets in new light through chinks that Time has made:

Stronger by weakness; wiser; men become

As they draw near to their eternal home。

Leaving the old; both worlds at once they view

That stand upon the threshold of the new。



Edmund Waller '1606…1687'





A LAMENT

The Night Before His Execution



My prime of youth is but a frost of cares;

My feast of joy is but a dish of pain;

My crop of corn is but a field of tares;

And all my good is but vain hope of gain;

The day is fled; and yet I saw no sun;

And now I live; and now my life is done!



The spring is past; and yet it is not sprung;

The fruit is dead; and yet the leaves be green;

My youth is gone; and yet I am but young;

I saw the world; and yet I was not seen;

My thread is cut; and yet it is not spun;

And now I live; and now my life is done!



I sought my death; and found it in my womb;

I looked for life; and saw it was a shade;

I trod the earth; and knew it was my tomb;

And now I die; and now I am but made;

The glass is full; and now my glass is run;

And now I live; and now my life is done!



Chidiock Tichborne '1558?…1586'





TOMORROW



In the down…hill of life; when I find I'm declining;

May my fate no less fortunate be

Than a snug elbow…chair will afford for reclining;

And a cot that o'erlooks the wide sea;

With an ambling pad…pony to pace o'er the lawn;

While I carol away idle sorrow;

And blithe as the lark that each day hails the dawn;

Look forward with hope for Tomorrow。



With a porch at my door; both for shelter and shade too;

As the sunshine or rain may prevail;

And a small spot of ground for the use of the spade too;

With a barn for the use of the flail:

A cow for my dairy; a dog for my game;

And a purse when a friend wants to borrow;

I'll envy no Nabob his riches or fame;

Nor what honors may wait him Tomorrow。



From the bleak northern blast may my cot be completely

Secured by a neighboring hill;

And at night may repose steal upon me more sweetly

By the sound of a murmuring rill。

And while peace and plenty I find at my board;

With a heart free from sickness and sorrow;

With my friends may I share what Today may afford;

And let them spread the table Tomorrow。



And when I at last must throw off this frail covering;

Which I've worn for three…score years and ten;

On the brink of the grave I'll not seek to keep hovering;

Nor my thread wish to spin o'er again;

But my face in the glass I'll serenely survey;

And with smiles count each wrinkle and furrow;

And this old worn…out stuff; which is threadbare Today;

May become everlasting Tomorrow。



John Collins '1742?…1808'





LATE WISDOM



We've trod the maze of error round;

Long wandering in the winding glade;

And now the torch of truth is found;

It only shows us where we strayed:

By long experience taught; we know …

Can rightly judge of friends and foes;

Can all the worth of these allow;

And all the faults discern in those。



Now; 'tis our boast that we can quell

The wildest passions in their rage;

Can their destructive force repel;

And their impetuous wrath assuage。 …

Ah; Virtue! dost thou arm when now

This bold rebellious race are fled?

When all these tyrants rest; and thou

Art warring with the mighty dead?



George Crabbe '1754…1832'





YOUTH AND AGE



Verse; a breeze 'mid blossoms straying;

Where Hope clung feeding like a bee; …

Both were mine!  Life went a…maying

With Nature; Hope; and Poesy

When I was young!



When I was young? … Ah; woful When!

Ah; for the change 'twixt Now and Then!

This breathing house not built with hands;

This body that does me grievous wrong;

O'er aery cliffs and glittering sands;

How lightly then it flashed along: …

Like those trim skiffs; unknown of yore;

On winding lakes and rivers wide;

That ask no aid of sail or oar;

That fear no spite of wind or tide!

Naught cared this body for wind or weather

When Youth and I lived in't together。



Flowers are lovely; Love is flower…like;

Friendship is a sheltering tree;

Oh! the joys that came down shower…like;

Of Friendship; Love; and Liberty

Ere I was old!



Ere I was old?  Ah; woful Ere;

Which tells me; Youth's no longer here!

O Youth! for years so many and sweet;

'Tis known that Thou and I were one。

I'll think it but a fond conceit …

It cannot be that Thou art gone!

Thy vesper…bell hath not yet tolled: …

And thou wert aye a masker bold!

What strange disguise hast now put on

To make believe that thou art gone?

I see these locks in silvery slips;

This drooping gait; this altered size:

But Springtide blossoms on thy lips;

And tears take sunshine from thine eyes!

Life is but thought: so think I will

That Youth and I are house…ma

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