Specimens of the Early English Poets: To which is Prefixed an Historical Sketch of the Rise and Progress of the English Poetry and Language, Volum 1Bulmer, 1803 - 458 pàgines |
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Resultats 1 - 5 de 19.
Pàgina 49
... scorn or mock The power of them whom Fortune here hath lent Charge over us , of right to strike the stroke . But true it is that I have always meant VOL . II . E Less to esteem them than the common sort , Of SIR THOMAS WYATT . 49.
... scorn or mock The power of them whom Fortune here hath lent Charge over us , of right to strike the stroke . But true it is that I have always meant VOL . II . E Less to esteem them than the common sort , Of SIR THOMAS WYATT . 49.
Pàgina 51
... scorn the story that the knight told : 1 Praise him for counsel that is drunk of ale : Grin when he laughs that beareth all the sway , Frown when he frowns , and groan when he is pale : - : On others lust to hang both night and day ...
... scorn the story that the knight told : 1 Praise him for counsel that is drunk of ale : Grin when he laughs that beareth all the sway , Frown when he frowns , and groan when he is pale : - : On others lust to hang both night and day ...
Pàgina 87
... scorn , me that clean shall be forgot , As I had not been born . Thus must I Youth give up , Whose badge I long did wear : To them I yield the wanton cup That better may it bear . Lo here the bared scull ! By whose bald sign I know That ...
... scorn , me that clean shall be forgot , As I had not been born . Thus must I Youth give up , Whose badge I long did wear : To them I yield the wanton cup That better may it bear . Lo here the bared scull ! By whose bald sign I know That ...
Pàgina 96
... scorned his bondage . Ar liberty I sit , and see Them that have erst laugh'd me to scorn Whipp'd with the whip that scourged me , I And now they ban that they were born ! 1 Curse . I see them sit full soberly And think their earnest 96 ...
... scorned his bondage . Ar liberty I sit , and see Them that have erst laugh'd me to scorn Whipp'd with the whip that scourged me , I And now they ban that they were born ! 1 Curse . I see them sit full soberly And think their earnest 96 ...
Pàgina 98
... true meaning is paid with scorn , That ever sow'th and reap'th no corn . And where thou seeks a quiet port , Thou dost but weigh against the wind ; · Love . I For where thou gladdest wouldst resort , There is 98 UNCERTAIN AUTHORS .
... true meaning is paid with scorn , That ever sow'th and reap'th no corn . And where thou seeks a quiet port , Thou dost but weigh against the wind ; · Love . I For where thou gladdest wouldst resort , There is 98 UNCERTAIN AUTHORS .
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Specimens of the Early English Poets,: To Which Is Prefixed an ..., Volum 3 George Ellis Previsualització no disponible - 2016 |
Frases i termes més freqüents
Astrophel and Stella beauty bird bliss born breast Chaucer cheer Christ's College court Cupid dainty dame dear death delight disdain doth E'en earl England's Helicon English eyes fair faith farewell favour fear flowers following specimens Gloss Gorboduc grace green Greensleeves grief hairs Harpalus hath heart heaven Henry VIII honour king kiss lady live look lord lov'd Love's lover lullaby lute mind mourning Muse never night nought Oxford pain pity poems poetical poetry poets praise prep printed pron Puttenham Queen reign scorn shepherd sighs sight sing Sir Philip Sidney Sir Thomas Wyatt Sith song SONNET soul summer queen sweet tears tell thee thine thing thou thought translated tree unto verse Vide Sibbald Warton wight wind wine Wood words worth marriage wouldest not love youth
Passatges populars
Pàgina 349 - Come away, come away, death, And in sad cypress let me be laid; Fly away, fly away, breath; I am slain by a fair cruel maid. My shroud of white, stuck all with yew, O prepare it. My part of death, no one so true Did share it.
Pàgina 389 - I'll not look for wine. The thirst that from the soul doth rise Doth ask a drink divine; But might I of Jove's nectar sup, I would not change for thine. I sent thee late a rosy wreath, Not so much honouring thee As giving it a hope that there It could not withered be; But thou thereon didst only breathe And sent'st it back to me; Since when it grows, and smells, I swear, Not of itself but thee!
Pàgina 352 - Being your slave, what should I do but tend Upon the hours and times of your desire? I have no precious time at all to spend, Nor services to do, till you require.
Pàgina 351 - Fear no more the frown o' the great; Thou art past the tyrant's stroke; Care no more to clothe and eat; To thee the reed is as the oak : The sceptre, learning, physic, must All follow this, and come to dust.
Pàgina 334 - Tell them that brave it most, They beg for more by spending, Who, in their greatest cost, Seek nothing but commending: And if they make reply Then give them all the lie.
Pàgina 346 - Now the wasted brands do glow, Whilst the screech-owl, screeching loud, Puts the wretch that lies in woe In remembrance of a shroud. Now it is the time of night ' That the graves, all gaping wide, Every one lets forth his sprite, In the church-way paths to glide...
Pàgina 220 - Time drives the flocks from field to fold, When Rivers rage, and Rocks grow cold, And Philomel becometh dumb, 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.
Pàgina 388 - Come, my Celia, let us prove, While we can, the sports of love, Time will not be ours for ever, He, at length, our good will sever; Spend not then his gifts in vain; Suns, that set, may rise again ; . But if once we lose this light, 'Tis with us perpetual night.
Pàgina 243 - CUPID and my Campaspe played At cards for kisses — Cupid paid; He stakes his quiver, bow and arrows, His mother's doves, and team of sparrows ; Loses them too; then down he throws The coral of his lip, the rose Growing on's cheek (but none knows how), With these, the crystal of his brow, And then the dimple of his chin ; All these did my Campaspe win. At last he set her both his eyes, She won, and Cupid blind did rise. O Love! has she done this to thee? What shall, alas! become of me?* THE SONGS...
Pàgina 348 - Tell me where is fancy bred, Or in the heart or in the head ? How begot, how nourished? Reply, reply. It is engender'd in the eyes, With gazing fed ; and fancy dies In the cradle where it lies. Let us all ring fancy's knell : I'll begin it, — Ding, dong, bell ALL.