The Poetry of George Wither, Том 1A.H. Bullen, 1902 |
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33 read A. H. BULLEN Abuses Stript Alexis barley-break behold Bentworth cause Charles Lamb conceit copy court Cuddy delight despair doth Earlier eds Early eds Eclogue edition Elizabeth Elizabeth Barry Envy Epigram Epithalamia Fair Virtue Falero fame favour fear Fidelia flocks fortunes friends George Wither give grace grieve Gutch hate hath hear heart hope John Juvenilia Lamb Later eds lero live LONDON Manydown Marshalsea mind Muse ne'er never nought nymphs passion pastoral perhaps Philarete pity poem poet Prince printed reprinted rest Roget Samuel Egerton Brydges satires Satyre scorn seems Shepherd's Hunting Shepherd's Pipe sing song SONNET sorrow Stript and Whipt swain sweet tell Thame thee there's thine thou art thou didst thou dost thou hast thou wert thought title-page true twas unto verse whilst Willy Wootton St worth wrong
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Стр. 138 - 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?
Стр. 61 - By a daisy, whose leaves spread, Shut when Titan goes to bed ; Or a shady bush or tree, She could more infuse in me, Than all Nature's beauties can In some other wiser man. By her help I also now Make this churlish place allow Some things that may sweeten gladness, In the very gall of sadness. The dull loneness, the black shade, That these hanging vaults have made ; The strange music of the waves, Beating on these hollow caves ; This black den which rocks emboss, Overgrown with eldest moss : The...
Стр. 139 - Think what with them they would do That without them dare to woo ; And unless that mind I see, What care 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 ? George Wither.
Стр. 59 - Here I waste away the light, And consume the sullen night, She doth for my comfort stay, And keeps many cares away. Though I miss the flowery fields, With those sweets the springtide yields...
Стр. 60 - I saw I could some invention draw, And raise pleasure to her height Through the meanest object's sight.
Стр. 139 - Be she meeker, kinder, than fhe turtle-dove or pelican : If she be not so to me, What care I how kind she be? Shall a woman's virtues move Me to perish for her love? Or, her well-deservings known, Make me quite forget mine own?
Стр. 59 - I'll fly where I never did : And though for her sake I'm crost, Though my best hopes I have lost, And knew she would...
Стр. 138 - 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...
Стр. 61 - Though thou be to them a scorn That to nought but earth are born, Let my life no longer be Than I am in love with thee...