Seventeenth Century Poetry: An Anthology |
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35. oldal
An Elegy * THOUGH Beauty be the mark of praise , And yours of whom I sing , be such , As not the world can praise too much , Yet is't your Virtue now I raise . A Virtue , like allay , so gone Throughout your form , as though that move ...
An Elegy * THOUGH Beauty be the mark of praise , And yours of whom I sing , be such , As not the world can praise too much , Yet is't your Virtue now I raise . A Virtue , like allay , so gone Throughout your form , as though that move ...
89. oldal
O give me quickness , that I may with mirth Praise Thee brimful ! The wanton lover in a curious strain · Can praise his fairest fair ; And with quaint metaphors her curled hair Curl o'er again . Thou art my loveliness , my life ...
O give me quickness , that I may with mirth Praise Thee brimful ! The wanton lover in a curious strain · Can praise his fairest fair ; And with quaint metaphors her curled hair Curl o'er again . Thou art my loveliness , my life ...
143. oldal
Yet they a beauteous offspring shall beget ; For that fair female troop thou saw'st , that seem'd Of goddesses , so blithe , so smooth , so gay , Yet empty of all good wherein consists Woman's domestic honour and chief praise ; Bred ...
Yet they a beauteous offspring shall beget ; For that fair female troop thou saw'st , that seem'd Of goddesses , so blithe , so smooth , so gay , Yet empty of all good wherein consists Woman's domestic honour and chief praise ; Bred ...
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Tartalomjegyzék
JOHN DONNE 15731631 | 1 |
Holy Sonnets I VII X XIII | 21 |
KATHERINE PHILIPS 16311664 | 26 |
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beauty blood breast breath bright bring cold dark dead dear death desire doth earth Eternity eyes face fair fall fame fate fear fire flame flowers friends give glory gone grace grow hair hand happy hast hath head heart Heav'n hope hour keep kind King kiss late leave lies light live look Lord lost Love's lovers meet mind morn move Muse Nature never night o'er once peace pleasure poor praise pure rest rise rose round seas sense shade sight sing sleep Song soul Spring stand stars stay streams strong sure sweet tears tell thee thine things thou thought trees true turn unto weep wind wings young