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, Том 31801 |
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Стр. 9
... 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 . 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 . Friends and companions , get you gone , ' Tis my desire to be ...
Стр. 14
... 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 ...
Стр. 24
... 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 ...
Стр. 49
... , Sorrow calls no 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 . VOL . III . E Joys , as winged dreams , fly fast , Why [ 49 ]
... , Sorrow calls no 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 . VOL . III . E Joys , as winged dreams , fly fast , Why [ 49 ]
Стр. 106
... 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 . Some men with swords may reap the field , And plant fresh laurels where they kill ...
... 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 . Some men with swords may reap the field , And plant fresh laurels where they kill ...
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Admet Anon Beaumont and Fletcher beauty beauty's birds blush born breast breath Carew CASTARA Celia Charles II chaste cheek Chloris 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 hath hear heart heaven hope Isaac Walton John Hall joys Julius Cæsar king kiss Laius language lips live lord lov'd love's lover maid MATTHEW STEVENSON melancholy miscellany mistress morn muse ne'er never night nymph o'er Oxford pain is love passion Phillis Picts pleasure poems poet poetry pride printed Prithee reign rose Saxon scorn Shakspeare shew sigh sing smile SONG SONNET sorrow soul specimen spring stanzas swain sweet taste tears tell thee thine thing thou art thought wanton Whilst wind wings wouldest not love youth