 | Charles Dexter Cleveland - 1848 - 786 ページ
...MELANCHOLY. But only melancholy ; Oh, sweetest melancholy, Welcome folded arms and fixed eyes, A sight that piercing mortifies; A look that's fasten'd to the ground, A tongue chain'd np without a sound ; Fountain heads, and pathless groves, Places which pale passion loves: Moonlight... | |
 | William Alfred Jones - 1857 - 286 ページ
...following beautiful lines from a play of Beaumont and Fletcher. Hence, all you vain delights, As short aa are the nights, Wherein you spend your folly ! There's nought in this life's sweete, If man were wise to see't But only melancholy ; Oh, sweetest melancholy 1 Welcome folded... | |
 | 1854 - 694 ページ
...but we give it as one of the most finished compositions of the kind in our language : — MELANCHOLY. Hence, all you vain delights, As short as are the...spend your folly ! There's nought in this life sweet, If'man were wise to все Ч, Hut only melancholy ; Oh, sweetest melancholy I Welcome, folded arms,... | |
 | 1842 - 330 ページ
...Milton. Almost equally fine are the following beautiful lines from a play of Beaumont and Fletcher. Hence, all you vain delights, As short as are the...you spend your folly ! There's nought in this life swecte, If man were wise to sce't, Hut only melancholy ; Oh, sweftest melancholy! Welcome folded nrms,... | |
 | George Smith, William Makepeace Thackeray - 1874 - 818 ページ
...surprising it laid hold of Milton and prompted him to utter on a like subject his own beautiful thoughts. Hence all you vain delights, As short as are the nights Wherein you spend your folly ; There's nonght in this life sweet, Were men but wise to see 't, But only melancholy ; O sweetest melancholy... | |
 | 1883 - 1002 ページ
...understand, in the least, what those fine, crusty old Elizabethans meant when they wrole, 'There's naught in this life sweet, If man were wise to see't, But only melancholy.' This noisy generation has losl Iheir secret As for me, I am conlenl wilh Ihe grays and drabs. I think... | |
 | Bryher - 2000 - 332 ページ
...Sampson's eyes grew as weary as her voice. But Nancy was murmuring to herself joyously, triumphantly: Hence all you vain delights, As short as are the nights...sweet. If man were wise to see't. But only melancholy; O sweetest melancholy! Yes, pain was better than contentment if it meant poetry. (In her heart she... | |
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HENCE, all you vain delights, As short as are the nights Wherein you spend your folly ! There's nought in this life sweet, If man were wise to see't, But only melancholy ; Oh ! sweetest melancholy. 
