English LyricsKegan Paul, Trench & Company, 1883 - Всего страниц: 296 |
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Стр. 1
... round ; Goodly begone , And yet a bone Most cruel in my wound . With lilies white And roses bright Doth strain thy colour fair ; B i Nature did lend Each finger's end A pearl for to The Lover praiseth the Beauty his Lady's hand The ...
... round ; Goodly begone , And yet a bone Most cruel in my wound . With lilies white And roses bright Doth strain thy colour fair ; B i Nature did lend Each finger's end A pearl for to The Lover praiseth the Beauty his Lady's hand The ...
Стр. 81
... That are this morning blown ; Yet , yet I doubt he is not known , And fear much more , that more of him be shown . G But he hath eyes so round and bright , As BEN JONSON . 81 A Nymph's Passion Ben Jonson Ben Jonson Ben Jonson Ben Jonson ...
... That are this morning blown ; Yet , yet I doubt he is not known , And fear much more , that more of him be shown . G But he hath eyes so round and bright , As BEN JONSON . 81 A Nymph's Passion Ben Jonson Ben Jonson Ben Jonson Ben Jonson ...
Стр. 82
English lyrics. But he hath eyes so round and bright , As make away my doubt , Where Love may all his torches light Though Hate had put them out : But then to increase my fears , What nymph soe'er his voice but hears , Will be my rival ...
English lyrics. But he hath eyes so round and bright , As make away my doubt , Where Love may all his torches light Though Hate had put them out : But then to increase my fears , What nymph soe'er his voice but hears , Will be my rival ...
Стр. 85
... rounds free , As shall the feast's fair grounds be . Be it he hold communion In great Saint George's union ; Or gratulates the passage Of some well - wrought embassage : Whereby he may knit sure up The wished peace of Europe : Or else a ...
... rounds free , As shall the feast's fair grounds be . Be it he hold communion In great Saint George's union ; Or gratulates the passage Of some well - wrought embassage : Whereby he may knit sure up The wished peace of Europe : Or else a ...
Стр. 90
... round about her rosy bed , That waking she may wonder ; Say to her , ' tis her lover true , That sendeth love to you , to you ; And when you have heard her kind reply , Return with pleasant warblings . LXI . VALERIUS ' SONG . ACK clouds ...
... round about her rosy bed , That waking she may wonder ; Say to her , ' tis her lover true , That sendeth love to you , to you ; And when you have heard her kind reply , Return with pleasant warblings . LXI . VALERIUS ' SONG . ACK clouds ...
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Часто встречающиеся слова и выражения
adieu Love Anthony Wood beauty BEN JONSON best fits birds blow bosom breast breath bright brow cold County Guy Cynthia's Revels dead infected dear death delight doth earth England's Helicon eyes fair Samela fancy fear fire fits a little flowers Forget friends GEORGE GASCOIGNE give gone grave hath heart heaven holly Honour lady leaves live look Love is dead Love's lovers lulla lullaby lyric mourn ne'er never NICHOLAS BRETON night numbers o'er old familiar faces pain peace Phillada flouts Phillis pity pleasure poem Queen rage of wind ROBERT SOUTHWELL roses scorn shepherd shine sighs sight sing sleep smile SONG sorrow soul spring stars sweet tears tell thee thine things THOMAS DEKKER thou art thou dost Thou hast thought toil tomb tree ULYSSES unto untrue Love verse waking eye wanton waves weep wert winds youth
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Стр. 120 - 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.
Стр. 186 - 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.
Стр. 224 - And smoothed down his lonely pillow, That the foe and the stranger would tread o'er his head; And we far away on the billow! Lightly they'll talk of the spirit that's gone, And o'er his cold ashes upbraid him; But little he'll reck; if they let him sleep on In the grave where a Briton has laid him.
Стр. 66 - A HYMN TO GOD THE FATHER. W PILT Thou forgive that sin where I begun, Which was my sin, though it were done before ? Wilt Thou forgive that sin, through which I run And do run still, though still I do deplore ? When Thou hast done, Thou hast not done ; For I have more.
Стр. 136 - 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.
Стр. 57 - Come away, come away, death, And in sad cypress let me be laid ; Fly away, fly away, breath ; I am slain by a fair cruel maid. My shroud of white, stuck all with yew, O, prepare it ! My part of death, no one so true Did share it. Not a flower, not a flower sweet, On my black coffin let there be strown...
Стр. 69 - QUEEN and huntress, chaste and fair, Now the sun is laid to sleep, Seated in thy silver chair, State in wonted manner keep: Hesperus entreats thy light, Goddess, excellently bright! Earth, let not thy envious shade Dare itself to interpose: Cynthia's shining orb was made Heaven to clear when day did close: Bless us then with wished sight, Goddess, excellently bright!
Стр. 116 - SWEET day, so cool, so calm, so bright, The bridal of the earth and sky, The dew shall weep thy fall to-night ; For thou must die.
Стр. 216 - She walks in beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies; And all that's best of dark and bright Meet in her aspect and her eyes: Thus mellow'd to that tender light Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
Стр. 81 - 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...