Book I-II of the Faery Queene, Том 2

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Clarendon Press, 1868
 

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Стр. 205 - Centre, and with impious hands Rifled the bowels of their mother Earth For treasures better hid.
Стр. 94 - O! th' exceeding grace Of highest God, that loves his creatures so, And all His works with mercy doth embrace, That blessed angels He sends to and fro To serve to wicked man, to serve his wicked foe!
Стр. 173 - To th' instruments divine respondence meet; The silver sounding instruments did meet With the base murmure of the waters fall; The waters fall with difference discreet, Now soft, now loud, unto the wind did call; The gentle warbling wind low answered to all.
Стр. 94 - How oft do they with golden pinions cleave The flitting skies like flying pursuivant, Against foul fiends to aid us militant! They for us fight, they watch and duly ward, And their bright squadrons round about us plant; And all for love, and nothing for reward: O why should Heavenly God to men have such regard ? LONDON: APPROVED SCHOOL BOOKS.
Стр. 82 - Did alwaies sore, beating his yron wings ; And after him Owles and Night-ravens flew, The hatefull messengers of heavy things, Of death and dolor telling sad tidings, Whiles sad Celeno, sitting on a...
Стр. 221 - ... mio concetto? Molto maggior di quel furor che suole, ben or convien che mi riscaldi il petto; che questa parte al mio signor si debbe...
Стр. 163 - That through the sea th' resounding plaints did fly At last they in an Island did espy A seemely Maiden, sitting by the shore, That with great sorrow and sad agony , Seemed some great misfortune to deplore, And lowd to them for succour called evermore.
Стр. 221 - Typhoea et coniuratos caelum rescindere fratres. 280 ter sunt conati imponere Pelio Ossam scilicet, atque Ossae frondosum involvere Olympum...
Стр. 94 - How oft do they their silver bowers leave, To come to succour us, that succour want? How oft do they with golden pinions cleave The flitting skies, like flying pursuivant, Against foul fiends to aid us militant?
Стр. 172 - And over all of purest gold was spred A trayle of yvie in his native hew; For the rich metall was so coloured, That wight, who did not well avis'd it vew, Would surely deeme it to bee yvie trew...

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