Specimens of the early English poets [ed. by G. Ellis.]. To which is prefixed an historical sketch of the rise and progress of the English poetry and language. By G. Ellis, 3. kötet1801 |
Részletek a könyvből
1 - 5 találat összesen 47 találatból.
23. oldal
... give my love good - morrow , To give my love good - morrow , Notes from them both I'll borrow . Wake from thy nest , Robin - red - breast , Sing birds in every furrow ; And from each hill , let music shrill , Give my fair love good ...
... give my love good - morrow , To give my love good - morrow , Notes from them both I'll borrow . Wake from thy nest , Robin - red - breast , Sing birds in every furrow ; And from each hill , let music shrill , Give my fair love good ...
24. oldal
... give my love good - morrow , Sing birds in every furrow . SHEPHERD'S SONG . WE that have known no greater state Than this we live in , praise our fate : For courtly silks in cares are spent , When country's russet breeds content . The ...
... give my love good - morrow , Sing birds in every furrow . SHEPHERD'S SONG . WE that have known no greater state Than this we live in , praise our fate : For courtly silks in cares are spent , When country's russet breeds content . The ...
26. oldal
... Cræsus . FIERCE tyrant , Death , that in thy wrath didst take One half of me , and left an half behind , Take this to thee , or give me th ' other back , Be altogether cruel , or all kind : choice ! For whilst I live , thou canst not [ 26 ]
... Cræsus . FIERCE tyrant , Death , that in thy wrath didst take One half of me , and left an half behind , Take this to thee , or give me th ' other back , Be altogether cruel , or all kind : choice ! For whilst I live , thou canst not [ 26 ]
29. oldal
... give nought except the grave ? SONG . [ From the Aurora . ] O WOULD to God a way were found , That by some secret sympathy unknown , My fair my fancy's depth might sound , And know my state as clearly as her own ! Then blest , most ...
... give nought except the grave ? SONG . [ From the Aurora . ] O WOULD to God a way were found , That by some secret sympathy unknown , My fair my fancy's depth might sound , And know my state as clearly as her own ! Then blest , most ...
35. oldal
... give a triumph to their love ; They staid at last , and on the grass Reposed so , as o'er his breast She bow'd her gracious head to rest , Such a weight as no burthen was . Long their fix'd eyes to heaven bent , Unchanged , they did ...
... give a triumph to their love ; They staid at last , and on the grass Reposed so , as o'er his breast She bow'd her gracious head to rest , Such a weight as no burthen was . Long their fix'd eyes to heaven bent , Unchanged , they did ...
Más kiadások - Összes megtekintése
Gyakori szavak és kifejezések
Admet Anon Beaumont and Fletcher beauty beauty's birds blushing born breast breath Carew CASTARA Celia chaste cheek Chloris Corpus Christi College court Cupid dear death delight died disdain dost doth earth Edgar Atheling English eyes face fair fancy fate fear flame flowers folly Francis Beaumont grace Greensleeves grief happy haste hath hear heart heaven hope Isaac Walton JOHN COLLOP Julius Cæsar king kiss Laius language leave lips live lord lov'd love's lover maid melancholy mistress morn muse ne'er never night nymph o'er Oxford passion Phillis PHINEAS FLETCHER Picts pleasure poems poet poetry reign rose Saxon scorn Sedley Shakspeare shew sighs sing smile SONG SONNET sorrow soul specimen spring stanzas sweet taste tears tell thee thine thing thou art thought unto wanton Whilst Whitsun ale wind wings wouldest not love youth
Népszerű szakaszok
225. oldal - To ALTHEA FROM 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 fetter'd to her eye, The birds that wanton in the air Know no such liberty.
23. 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.
96. oldal - THE glories of our blood and state Are shadows, not substantial things ; There is no armour against fate ; Death lays his icy hand on kings. Sceptre and crown Must tumble down, And in the dust be equal made With the poor crooked scythe and spade.
43. oldal - Take, oh take those lips away, That so sweetly were forsworn; And those eyes, the break of day, Lights that do mislead the morn; But my kisses bring again, bring again, Seals of love, but seal'd in vain.
198. oldal - Why so pale and wan, fond lover? Prithee, why so pale? Will, when looking well can't move her, Looking ill prevail? Prithee, why so pale?
180. 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.
129. oldal - Ask me no more whither doth haste The nightingale when May is past, For in your sweet dividing throat She winters and keeps warm her note. Ask me no more where Jove bestows, When June is past, the fading rose, For in your beauty's orient deep These flowers as in their causes, sleep.
56. oldal - Cause I see a woman kind; Or a well disposed nature Joined with a lovely feature? Be she meeker, kinder, than Turtle-dove or pelican, If she be not so to me, What care I how kind she be?
225. oldal - When (like committed Linnets) I With shriller throat shall sing The sweetness, Mercy, Majesty, And glories of my King ; When I shall voice aloud, how Good He is, how Great should be ; Enlarged Winds that curl the Flood, Know no such Liberty.
350. oldal - scape, Rivals and Falsehood soon appear In a more dreadful shape. By such degrees to joy they come, And are so long withstood, So slowly they receive the sum, It hardly does them good. 'Tis cruel to prolong a pain; And to defer a joy, Believe me, gentle Celemene, Offends the winged boy.