The Helicon of Love: A Selection from the Poets of the Sixteenth and Seventeenth CenturiesH.G. Clarke and Company, 66, Old Bailey., 1844 - 123 pàgines |
Altres edicions - Mostra-ho tot
The Poetry of Love: A Selection from the Poets of the Sixteenth and ... Helicon Visualització completa - 1844 |
The Helicon of Love: A Selection from the Poets of the Sixteenth and ... Visualització completa - 1844 |
Frases i termes més freqüents
adorn angel Beauty's birds blest blush Born bosom breast breath bright buds Castara Celia charms cheek CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE dear death delight desire despair died disdain divine doth dwell e'er echo ring EDMUND SPENSER eyes face fair Samela Fayre fears fire flame flowers gentle GEORGE CHAPMAN GEORGE GASCOIGNE golden grace grief hair hast hath heart heaven HENRY GLAPTHORNE HENRY WILLOBY honey joyes kiss Ladies leave light lily lips live look lov'd love thee Love's lover MATTHEW PRIOR MICHAEL DRAYTON mind mistress morn move NATHANIEL FIELD Nature's ne'er never night nought Numbering pain passion pity pleasure praise prove RICHARD LOVELACE risc rose SAMUEL DANIEL scorn shine sigh sing sleep smiles soft SONG SONNET sorrow soul spring star sweet tears tell thine thing THOMAS CAREW THOMAS MIDDLETON thought thy beautie thy love tongue unto virgin virtues vows wanton Whilst WILLIAM HABINGTON wind youth
Passatges populars
Pàgina 103 - WHEN LOVE, with unconfined wings, Hovers within my gates; And, my divine ALTHEA brings, To whisper at the grates; When I lie tangled in her hair, And fettered to her eye: The birds, that wanton in the air, Know no such liberty!
Pàgina 48 - Love in my bosom like a bee Doth suck his sweet : Now with his wings he plays with me, Now with his feet. Within mine eyes he makes his nest, His bed amidst my tender breast ; My kisses are his daily feast, And yet he robs me of my rest. Ah, wanton, will ye?
Pàgina 68 - HE that loves a rosy cheek, Or a coral lip admires, Or from star-like eyes doth seek Fuel to maintain his fires ; As old Time makes these decay, So his flames must waste away. But a smooth and steadfast mind, Gentle thoughts and calm desires, Hearts with equal love combined, Kindle never-dying fires. Where these are not, I despise Lovely cheeks, or lips, or eyes.
Pàgina 55 - Saturn laugh'd and leap'd with him. Yet nor the lays of birds, nor the sweet smell Of different flowers in odour and in hue, Could make me any summer's story tell, Or from their proud lap pluck them where they grew: Nor did I wonder at the lilies white, Nor praise the deep vermilion in the rose; They were but sweet, but figures of delight, Drawn after you, you pattern of all those. Yet seem'd it winter still, and you away, As with your shadow I with these did play : XCIX.
Pàgina 32 - Thy gowns, thy shoes, thy beds of roses, Thy cap, thy kirtle, and thy posies, Soon break, soon wither, soon forgotten; In folly ripe, in reason rotten. Thy belt of straw and ivy buds, Thy coral clasps and amber studs, All these in me no means can move, To come to thee and be thy love.
Pàgina 38 - Open the temple gates unto my Love, Open them wide that she may enter in, And all the posts adorn as doth behove, And all the pillars deck with garlands trim...
Pàgina 65 - Or the nard in the fire? Or have tasted the bag of the bee? O so white, O so soft, O so sweet is she!
Pàgina 52 - Since there's no help, come, let us kiss and part, — Nay I have done, you get no more of me; And I am glad, yea glad with all my heart, That thus so cleanly I myself can free; Shake hands for ever, cancel all our vows, And when we meet at any time again, Be it not seen in either of our brows That we one jot of former love retain.
Pàgina 30 - COME live with me and be my love, And we will all the pleasures prove, That valleys, groves, hills and fields, Woods or Steepy mountains yields. And we will sit upon the rocks, Seeing the shepherds feed their flocks By shallow rivers, to whose falls Melodious birds sing madrigals. And I will make thee beds of roses, And a thousand...
Pàgina 30 - Embroidered all with leaves of myrtle; A gown made of the finest wool Which from our pretty lambs we pull...