English Poems: Old English and middle English periods 450-1550Walter Cochrane Bronson University of Chicago Press, 1910 |
Des de l'interior del llibre
Resultats 1 - 5 de 42.
Pàgina 5
... body . Send off to Hygelac , if battle take me , the best of war - shrouds , that covers my breast , finest of armor ; that was left me by Hrethel , the work of Weland . Fate goeth ever as she must . " Hrothgar spoke , helm of the ...
... body . Send off to Hygelac , if battle take me , the best of war - shrouds , that covers my breast , finest of armor ; that was left me by Hrethel , the work of Weland . Fate goeth ever as she must . " Hrothgar spoke , helm of the ...
Pàgina 7
... body , since hope of his fill of food was fallen to him . It was not fate , any longer , that he should seize more of mankind after that night . Hygelac's kinsman , mightily strong , beheld how the wicked scather was going to fare with ...
... body , since hope of his fill of food was fallen to him . It was not fate , any longer , that he should seize more of mankind after that night . Hygelac's kinsman , mightily strong , beheld how the wicked scather was going to fare with ...
Pàgina 8
... body would not last him , but Hygelac's brave kinsman had him by the hand : each was hateful to the other , living . The dire monster endured a body - sore : a clear wound not to be eased was on his Το shoulder ; his sinews sprang apart ...
... body would not last him , but Hygelac's brave kinsman had him by the hand : each was hateful to the other , living . The dire monster endured a body - sore : a clear wound not to be eased was on his Το shoulder ; his sinews sprang apart ...
Pàgina 13
... body so that battle - grasp might not scathe his breast or ireful foeman's clutch his life ; but the white helmet guarded his head , and must mingle with the mere - depths , seek the turmoil of the sea , though decked with treasure ...
... body so that battle - grasp might not scathe his breast or ireful foeman's clutch his life ; but the white helmet guarded his head , and must mingle with the mere - depths , seek the turmoil of the sea , though decked with treasure ...
Pàgina 14
... body : outside the ring - mail covered him about , so that she might not clutch through the army - coat , the locked limb - shirt , with her hateful fingers . Then the she - wolf of the mere , when she came to the bottom , bore to her ...
... body : outside the ring - mail covered him about , so that she might not clutch through the army - coat , the locked limb - shirt , with her hateful fingers . Then the she - wolf of the mere , when she came to the bottom , bore to her ...
Altres edicions - Mostra-ho tot
Frases i termes més freqüents
agayn anon Beowulf Byrhtnoth clere comune coude Cresseid daye Dedes dere Dethe doth doun drede dyde eche Everyman Fair Annet fayre Felawshyp frende fynde Geats gold grene grete gyve hast hath heaven hede Hengest herte honde Hrothgar Hygelac Kemp Owyne Knowlege knyght kylle kynde kynge leve loke Lord lyke lyve mede mery mither moche mony moost mordred myght mynde never noght Pardoner Pedler Persè Poticary pray praye quhat Quhen quod rede rekenynge Robyn ryche ryght sayd saye Saynt schal sche scho Scyldings seyde shal sholde sone song sonne sore soth soule speke swete swich thair thane thanne thay thee thenne ther Therfore theyr thou thre thynge trewe twa sisters Tyll tyme unto watz whan wolde word wyll wyth ΙΟ
Passatges populars
Pàgina 130 - But al be that he was a philosophre, Yet hadde he but litel gold in cofre...
Pàgina 245 - True Thomas he took off his hat, And bowed him low down till his knee : " All hail, thou mighty Queen of Heaven ! For your peer on earth I never did see.
Pàgina 127 - Of smal coral aboute hir arm she bar A peire of bedes, gauded al with grene; And ther-on heng a broche of gold ful shene, 160 On which ther was first write a crowned A, And after, Amor vincit omnia.
Pàgina 141 - Everich a word, if it be in his charge, Al speke he never so rudeliche and large, Or ellis he moot telle his tale untrewe, Or feyne thyng, or fynde wordes newe.
Pàgina 123 - Whan that Aprille with his shoures soote The droghte of Marche hath perced to the roote, And bathed every veyne in swich licour. Of which vertu engendred is the flour...
Pàgina 125 - Somtyme with the lord of Palatye Agayn another hethen in Turkye. And everemoore he hadde a sovereyn prys; And though that he were worthy, he was wys, And of his port as meeke as is a mayde. He nevere yet no vileynye ne sayde In al his lyf unto no maner wight. He was a verray, parfit gentil knyght.
Pàgina 246 - And see ye not that braid braid road, That lies across that lily leven? That is the path of wickedness, Tho some call it the road to heaven. "And see not ye that bonny road, That winds about the fernie brae? That is the road to fair Elfland, Where thou and I this night maun gae. "But, Thomas, ye maun hold your tongue, Whatever ye may hear or see, For, if you speak word in Elflyn land, Ye'll neer get back to your ain countrie.
Pàgina 227 - THE king sits in Dumferling toune, Drinking the blude-reid wine: "O whar will I get guid sailor, To sail this schip of mine?" Up and spak an eldern knicht, Sat at the kings richt kne: "Sir Patrick Spence is the best sailor. That sails upon the se.
Pàgina 145 - His byle was blak, and as the jeet it shoon ; Lyk asure were his legges and his toon ; His nayles whiter than the lylye flour, And lyk the burned gold was his colour.
Pàgina 218 - For Wetharryngton my harte was wo, That ever he slayne shulde be ; For when both his leggis wear hewyne in to, Yet he knyled and fought on hys kne.