The Courtly Poets from Raleigh to Montrose

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Bell and Daldy, 1870 - 261 pàgines
 

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Pàgina 17 - Tell real it wants devotion; Tell love it is but lust; Tell time it is but motion; Tell flesh it is but dust: And wish them not reply. For thou must give the lie, Tell age it daily wasteth : Tell honour how it alters ; Tell
Pàgina 195 - virtuous souls abhor. And hold a synod in thine heart, I'll never love thee more. n. As Alexander I will reign, And I will reign alone ; My thoughts did evermore disdain A rival on my throne. He either fears his fate too mueh, Or his deserts are small,
Pàgina 82 - than gifts to lend; And entertains the harmless day With a religious book or friend. This man is freed from servile bands Of hope to rise or fear to fall: I
Pàgina 93 - vines, And birds had drawn their valentines; The jealous trout, that low did lie, Rose at a well-dissembled fly : There stood my friend, with patient skill, Attending of his trembling quill. Already were the eaves possessed With the swift pilgrim's daubed nest: The groves already did
Pàgina 117 - last Labour that thou and I shall waste. And end that I have now begun; And when this song is sang and past. My lute, be still! for I have done. As to be heard where ear is none; As lead to grave in marble stone; My song may
Pàgina 81 - armour is his honest thought. And simple truth his utmost skill; Whose passions not his masters are; Whose soul is still prepared for death, Untied unto the world by
Pàgina 118 - So that I am past remedy: Whereby my lute and I have done. Proud of the spoil that thou hast got Of simple hearts, thorough Love's shot, By whom, unkind, thou hast them won; Think not he hath his bow forgot, Although my lute and I have done.
Pàgina 21 - my flesh must die so soon, And want a head to dine next noon, Just at the stroke, when my veins start and spread, Set on my soul an everlasting head ! Then am I ready, like a palmer fit, To tread those blest paths
Pàgina 107 - day is fled, and yet I saw no sun; And now I live, and now my life is done! The spring is past, and yet it hath not sprung; The fruit is dead, and yet the leaves are green; My youth is gone, and yet I am but young; I saw the world, and yet I was not seen; My thread is
Pàgina 130 - balm of woe, The poor man's wealth, the prisoner's release, The indifferent judge between the high and low ; With shield of proof, shield me from out the prease Of those

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