The Book of Rubies: A Collection of the Most Notable Love-poems in the English LanguageScribner, 1866 - 384 oldal |
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1 - 5 találat összesen 25 találatból.
101. oldal
... waves pass by , embraces all , That had as lief the same waves always love , 9 * ABRAHAM COWLEY . ΙΟΙ To cure, and not to wound, ...
... waves pass by , embraces all , That had as lief the same waves always love , 9 * ABRAHAM COWLEY . ΙΟΙ To cure, and not to wound, ...
102. oldal
... waves always love , Did they not from him move ; Or can you fault with pilots find For changing course , yet never blame the wind ? Since drunk with vanity you fell , The things turn round to you that steadfast dwell ; And you yourself ...
... waves always love , Did they not from him move ; Or can you fault with pilots find For changing course , yet never blame the wind ? Since drunk with vanity you fell , The things turn round to you that steadfast dwell ; And you yourself ...
112. oldal
... wave the azure main , Our paper , pen and ink , and we , Roll up and down in ships at sea , With a fa , la , la , la , la . Then if we write not by each post , Think not we are unkind ; Nor yet conclude our ships are lost By Dutchmen or ...
... wave the azure main , Our paper , pen and ink , and we , Roll up and down in ships at sea , With a fa , la , la , la , la . Then if we write not by each post , Think not we are unkind ; Nor yet conclude our ships are lost By Dutchmen or ...
147. oldal
... waves his body cover ! Forever now , O Yarrow stream ! Thou art to me a stream of sorrow ; For never on thy banks shall I Behold my love , the Flower of Yarrow ! He promised me a milk - white steed , To bear me to his father's bowers ...
... waves his body cover ! Forever now , O Yarrow stream ! Thou art to me a stream of sorrow ; For never on thy banks shall I Behold my love , the Flower of Yarrow ! He promised me a milk - white steed , To bear me to his father's bowers ...
174. oldal
... Fair , as the bosom of the swan That rises graceful o'er the wave , I've seen your breast with pity heave , And therefore love I you , sweet Genevieve ! Thomas Dermody . ( BORN 1774- DIED 1802. ] " 174 BOOK OF RUBIES .
... Fair , as the bosom of the swan That rises graceful o'er the wave , I've seen your breast with pity heave , And therefore love I you , sweet Genevieve ! Thomas Dermody . ( BORN 1774- DIED 1802. ] " 174 BOOK OF RUBIES .
Más kiadások - Összes megtekintése
The Book of Rubies: A Collection of the Most Notable Love-Poems in the ... Thomas Dunn English Nincs elérhető előnézet - 2017 |
The Book of Rubies: A Collection of the Most Notable Love-Poems in the ... Thomas Dunn English Nincs elérhető előnézet - 2018 |
Gyakori szavak és kifejezések
beauty birds blossom blush bonnie BORN bosom braes breast breath bright brow BRYAN WALLER PROCTOR charms cheek Christ Church College cloud College dear death DIED disdain doth dream Earl educated EDWARD LYTTON EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON fair fairest fate flame flowers Forget gentle Giles Fletcher gone green hath hear heart heaven hope John JOHN LYLYE kiss lady leaves light lips look love thee love's lover maid Mary morning ne'er never Nicholas Breton night o'er Oxford passion plays poems Ramoth RICHARD BARNEFIELD ROBERT AYTOUN rose shade shine sigh sing skies sleep smile soft SONG sorrow soul spirit stars SUSANNA BLAMIRE sweet tears tell thee-I thought thine eyes THOMAS thou art thought of thee thy love Twas University of Edinburgh unto voice vows waly waves weary WILLIAM willow-tree wilt thou wind Yarrow young young Jessie
Népszerű szakaszok
162. oldal - SHE was a Phantom of delight When first she gleamed upon my sight; A lovely Apparition, sent To be a moment's ornament; Her eyes as stars of Twilight fair; Like Twilight's, too, her dusky hair; But all things else about her drawn From May-time and the cheerful Dawn; A dancing Shape, an Image gay, To haunt, to startle, and way-lay.
99. oldal - Going to the Wars TELL me not, Sweet, I am unkind, That from the nunnery Of thy chaste breast, and quiet mind, To war and arms I fly. True; a new mistress now I chase, The first foe in the field; And with a stronger faith embrace A sword, a horse, a shield. Yet this inconstancy is such, As you too shall adore; I could not love thee, dear, so much, Loved I not honour more.
83. oldal - Go, lovely Rose! Tell her, that wastes her time and me, That now she knows, When I resemble her to thee, How sweet and fair she seems to be. Tell her that's young And shuns to have her graces spied, That hadst thou sprung In deserts, where no men abide, Thou must have uncommended died.
36. oldal - 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.
43. oldal - Every thing did banish moan, Save the nightingale alone : She, poor bird, as all forlorn, Lean'd her breast up-till a thorn, And there sung the dolefull'st ditty, That to hear it was great pity : 'Fie, fie, fie...
158. oldal - I hear her in the tunefu' birds, I hear her charm the air : There's not a bonnie flower that springs By fountain, shaw...
76. oldal - Sweet air blow soft, mount larks aloft To give my Love good-morrow ! Wings from the wind to please her mind Notes from the lark I'll borrow ; Bird, prune thy wing, nightingale sing, To give my Love good-morrow ; To give my Love good-morrow Notes from them both I'll borrow.
155. oldal - John Anderson my jo. John Anderson my jo, John, We clamb the hill thegither ; And mony a canty day, John, We've had wi' ane anither : Now we maun totter down, John, But hand in hand we'll go, And sleep thegither at the foot, John Anderson my jo.
65. oldal - SHALL I, wasting in despair, Die because a woman's fair? Or make pale my cheeks with care 'Cause another's rosy are? Be she fairer than the day, Or the flowery meads in May, If she think not well of me, What care I how fair she be?
53. oldal - Drink to me only with thine eyes, And I will pledge with mine; Or leave a kiss but in the cup And 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.