Le Morte Arthur: Edited from the Harleian Ms. 2252 in the British Museum

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Frederick James Furnivall
Macmillan, 1864 - 190 oldal

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viii. oldal - If thou shouldst never see my face again, Pray for my soul. More things are wrought by prayer Than this world dreams of. Wherefore, let thy voice Rise like a fountain for me night and day.
viii. oldal - The old order changeth, yielding place to new, And God fulfils Himself in many ways, Lest one good custom should corrupt the world.
viii. oldal - Pray for my soul. More things are wrought by prayer Than this world dreams of. Wherefore, let thy voice Rise like a fountain for me night and day. For what are men better than sheep or goats That nourish a blind life within the brain, If, knowing God, they lift not hands of prayer Both for themselves and those who call them friend t For so the whole round earth is every way Bound by gold chains about the feet of God.
viii. oldal - I am going a long way With these thou seest — if indeed I go (For all my mind is clouded with a doubt) To the island-valley of Avilion; Where falls not hail, or rain, or any snow. Nor ever wind blows loudly; but it lies Deep-meadow'd, happy, fair with orchard lawns And bowery hollows crown'd with summer sea, Where I will heal me of my grievous wound.
viii. oldal - For so the whole round earth is every way Bound by gold chains about the feet of God. But now farewell. I am going a long way With these thou seest - — if indeed I go — For all my mind is clouded with a doubt — To the...
viii. oldal - Then spoke King Arthur, breathing heavily : 'What is it thou hast seen? or what hast heard?' And answer made the bold Sir Bedivere : ' I heard the water lapping on the crag, And the long ripple washing in the reeds.
12. oldal - To Launcelot withouten lees. Launcelot hytte hym on the hode; The nexte way to ground he chese. Was none so stiff agayne hym stode, Fulle thynne he made the thikkest prees.
9. oldal - For to comf orte pat fayre may ; In hyr Armys she gan hym take And these wordis ganne she say : "Sir, bot yif that ye it make, Saff my lyff no leche may.
92. oldal - Syr, thynke that ye haue venquysshid many A bataille Throwgh grace that god hathe for you wrought ; ye shalle do now by my counsayle : Thynke on hym that you dere bought ; Wemen Ar frele of hyr entayle ; 2300 Sir, lettes not ynglande go to noght.
3. oldal - The kynge satte vppon his stede And forthe is went vppon his way; Sir Agraveyne for suche a nede At home by-lefte, for soth to say, 60 For men told in many a thede...

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