The Poetical Calendar, Containing a Collection of Scarce and Valuable Pieces of Poetry: With Variety of Originals and Translations, Bind 1–2

J. Coote, 1763

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Side 55 - IF all the world and love were young, And truth in every shepherd's tongue, These pretty pleasures might me move To live with thee and be thy love.
Side 55 - The rest complains of cares to come. The flowers do fade, and wanton fields To wayward Winter reckoning yields: A honey tongue, a heart of gall, Is fancy's spring, but sorrow's fall. Thy gowns, thy shoes, thy beds of roses, Thy cap, thy kirtle...
Side 53 - A cap of flowers, and a kirtle Embroider'd all with leaves of myrtle. A gown made of the finest wool, Which from our pretty lambs we pull, Fair lined slippers for the cold, With buckles of the purest gold.
Side 68 - 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.
Side 59 - Come live with me, and be my dear, And we will revel all the year, In plains and groves, on hills and dales, Where fragrant air breeds sweetest gales. There shall you have the beauteous pine, The cedar, and the spreading vine, And all the woods to be a screen, Lest Phoebus kiss my summer's queen.
Side 54 - With coral clasps and amber studs : And if these pleasures may thee move, Come live with me and be my love. Thy silver dishes for thy meat, As precious as the gods do eat, Shall on an ivory table be Prepared each day for thee and me. The shepherd swains shall dance and sing For thy delight each May-morning : If these delights thy mind may move, Then live with me and be my love.
Side 57 - SHALL I, like a hermit, dwell, On a rock, or in a cell, Calling home the smallest part That is missing of my heart, To bestow it where I may Meet a rival every day ? If she undervalue me, What care I how fair she be...
Side 53 - A gown made of the finest Wool, Which from our pretty Lambs we pull ; Slippers, lin'd choicely for the Cold, With Buckles of the purest Gold. A belt of Straw, and ivy Buds, With coral clasps, and amber Studs ; And if these pleasures may thee move, Come live with me, and be my Love.
Side 26 - With nymphs and tritons, wafts him o'er the main ; Another draws fierce Lucifer in arms And fills th' infernal region with alarms ; A third awakes some druid, to foretell Each future triumph, from his dreary cell.
Side 14 - Cause ; Secure that health and beauty springs Through this majestic frame of things, Beyond what he can reach to know ; And that Heaven's all-subduing will, With good, the progeny of ill, Attempereth every state below.

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