Specimens of the Early English Poets, 3. kötetG. and W. Nicol, 1803 |
Részletek a könyvből
1 - 5 találat összesen 32 találatból.
11. oldal
... fate I now repent , but ' tis too late . No torment is so bad as love , So bitter to my soul can prove . All my griefs to this are jolly , Nought so harsh as melancholy . 7 Friends and companions , get you gone ! " Tis my desire to be ...
... fate I now repent , but ' tis too late . No torment is so bad as love , So bitter to my soul can prove . All my griefs to this are jolly , Nought so harsh as melancholy . 7 Friends and companions , get you gone ! " Tis my desire to be ...
17. oldal
... fate did fetch Me , poor wretch , Into this unhappy error ; Which to plague , no tyrant's mind Pain can find Like my heart's self - guilty terror . Then , O then ! let that suffice , Your dear eyes Need not , need not more afflict me ...
... fate did fetch Me , poor wretch , Into this unhappy error ; Which to plague , no tyrant's mind Pain can find Like my heart's self - guilty terror . Then , O then ! let that suffice , Your dear eyes Need not , need not more afflict me ...
32. oldal
... fate : For , courtly silks in cares are spent , When country's russet breeds content . The power of sceptres we admire , But sheep - hooks for our use desire . Simple and low is our condition , For here with us is no ambition ; We with ...
... fate : For , courtly silks in cares are spent , When country's russet breeds content . The power of sceptres we admire , But sheep - hooks for our use desire . Simple and low is our condition , For here with us is no ambition ; We with ...
54. oldal
... fate my happy wish refuses , Let me alone enjoy my low estate , Of all the gifts that fair Parnassus uses , Only scorn'd poverty and Fortune's hate Common I find to me and to the Muses ; But with the Muses welcome poorest fate ! Safe in ...
... fate my happy wish refuses , Let me alone enjoy my low estate , Of all the gifts that fair Parnassus uses , Only scorn'd poverty and Fortune's hate Common I find to me and to the Muses ; But with the Muses welcome poorest fate ! Safe in ...
64. oldal
... time that's gone . Violets pluck'd the sweetest rain Makes not fresh nor grow again . Trim thy locks , look cheerfully ; Fate's hidden ends eyes cannot see . Joys , as winged dreams , fly fast ; Why 64 . BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER .
... time that's gone . Violets pluck'd the sweetest rain Makes not fresh nor grow again . Trim thy locks , look cheerfully ; Fate's hidden ends eyes cannot see . Joys , as winged dreams , fly fast ; Why 64 . BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER .
Más kiadások - Összes megtekintése
Specimens of the Early English Poets: To Which Is Prefixed, an ..., 2. kötet George Ellis Nincs elérhető előnézet - 2016 |
Specimens of the Early English Poets: To Which Is Prefixed, an ..., 2. kötet George Ellis Nincs elérhető előnézet - 2016 |
Gyakori szavak és kifejezések
Admet Anon Beaumont Beaumont and Fletcher beauty beauty's Biographia Dramatica birds born breast breath Carew Castara chaste Chloris Corpus Christi College court Cupid dear death delight died disdain dost doth earth Edgar Atheling English Exeter College extracted eyes fair fancy fate fear flame flowers folly Francis Beaumont GILES FLETCHER grace grief happy hath hear heart heaven honour joys king kiss Laius Langbaine language leave live lord lov'd Love's Love's cruelty lover maid MATTHEW STEVENSON melancholy mind miscellany mistress morning Muses ne'er never night nymph o'er Oxford passion Phillis Picts pleasure poems poet poetry praise pride printed reign rose Saxon says Wood scorn Shakspeare sighs sing smile SONG SONNET sorrow soul spring stanzas star Surrey sweet taste tears tell thee thine thing thou art thought unto wanton weep Whilst wind wings youth
Népszerű szakaszok
250. oldal - Her finger was so small, the ring Would not stay on which they did bring, It was too wide a peck : And to say truth, for out it must, ' It look'd like the great collar, just, About our young colt's neck. Her feet beneath her petticoat, Like little mice stole in and out, As if they fear'd the light : But oh ! she dances such a way — No sun upon an Easter day Is half so fine a sight.
69. oldal - Like to the falling of a star; Or as the flights of eagles are; Or like the fresh spring's gaudy hue; Or silver drops of morning dew; Or like a wind that chafes the flood; Or bubbles which on water stood; Even such is man, whose borrowed light Is straight called in, and paid to night. The wind blows out; the bubble dies; The spring entombed in autumn lies; The dew dries up; the star is shot; The flight is past; and man forgot.
277. oldal - PRISON 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.
194. 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. Small is the worth Of beauty from the light retired : Bid her come forth, Suffer herself to be desired, And not blush so to be admired. Then die ! that she The common fate of all things rare May read in thee, — How...
126. oldal - But Time did beckon to the flowers, and they By noon most cunningly did steal away, And wither'd in my hand. My hand was next to them, and then my heart ; I took, without more thinking, in good part Time's gentle admonition ; Who did so sweetly death's sad taste convey, Making my mind to smell my fatal day, Yet sugaring the suspicion.
290. oldal - But should I now to you relate The strength and riches of their state, The powder, patches, and the pins, The ribbons, jewels, and the rings, The lace, the paint, and warlike things That make up all their magazines : If I should tell the politic arts To take and keep men's hearts ; The letters, embassies, and spies, The frowns, and smiles, and flatteries, The quarrels, tears, and perjuries, Numberless, nameless mysteries...
85. oldal - I how great she be? Great, or good, or kind, or fair, I will ne'er the more despair! If she love me, this believe, I will die ere she shall grieve! If she slight me, when I woo, I can scorn, and let her go! For if she be not for me, What care I for whom she be?
222. oldal - Now the bright morning star, day's harbinger, Comes dancing from the east, and leads with her The flowery May, who from her green lap throws The yellow cowslip, and the pale primrose. Hail, bounteous May, that dost inspire Mirth, and youth, and warm desire ; Woods and groves are of thy dressing, Hill and dale doth boast thy blessing. Thus we salute thee with our early song, And welcome thee, and wish thee long.
73. oldal - And Phoebus in his chair Ensaffroning sea and air Makes vanish every star: Night like a drunkard reels Beyond the hills to shun his flaming wheels: The fields...
56. oldal - See, see the flowers that below Now as fresh as morning blow, And of all the virgin rose That as bright Aurora shows, How they all unleaved die Losing their virginity : Like unto a summer shade, But now born and now they fade.