Specimens of the Early English Poets: To which is Prefixed, an Historical Sketch of the Rise and Progress of the English Poetry and Language,Longman, Hurst, Rees, Orme, and Brown, 1811 |
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Стр. 9
... fear , Pleasing myself with phantasms sweet , Methinks the time runs very fleet . All my joys to this are folly , Nought so sweet as melancholy . When I lie waking , all alone , Recounting what I have ill done , My thoughts on me then ...
... fear , Pleasing myself with phantasms sweet , Methinks the time runs very fleet . All my joys to this are folly , Nought so sweet as melancholy . When I lie waking , all alone , Recounting what I have ill done , My thoughts on me then ...
Стр. 12
... Fear , discontent , and sorrows come . All my griefs to this are jolly , Nought so fierce as melancholy . I'll not change life with any king ; I ravish'd am ! can the world bring More joy , than still to laugh and smile , In pleasant ...
... Fear , discontent , and sorrows come . All my griefs to this are jolly , Nought so fierce as melancholy . I'll not change life with any king ; I ravish'd am ! can the world bring More joy , than still to laugh and smile , In pleasant ...
Стр. 20
... fears , And try them on herself she will . Take heed , sweet nymph , try not thy shaft ! Each little touch will prick the heart ; Alas ! thou know'st not Cupid's craft , Revenge is joy , the end is smart . Yet try she will , and prick ...
... fears , And try them on herself she will . Take heed , sweet nymph , try not thy shaft ! Each little touch will prick the heart ; Alas ! thou know'st not Cupid's craft , Revenge is joy , the end is smart . Yet try she will , and prick ...
Стр. 28
... fear so fair a hand . There be , who our delights despise As shadows , and vain fantasies . Those sons of earth , enthrall'd to sense , Condemn what is our excellence . The air , immortal souls , the skies , The angels in their ...
... fear so fair a hand . There be , who our delights despise As shadows , and vain fantasies . Those sons of earth , enthrall'd to sense , Condemn what is our excellence . The air , immortal souls , the skies , The angels in their ...
Стр. 33
... we sometimes the willow wear , By subtle swains that dare forswear , We wonder whence it comes , and fear They've been at court , and learnt it there . VOL . III . WILLIAM ALEXANDER , OF MENSTRIe , earl of sterline , THOMAS HEYWOOD . 33.
... we sometimes the willow wear , By subtle swains that dare forswear , We wonder whence it comes , and fear They've been at court , and learnt it there . VOL . III . WILLIAM ALEXANDER , OF MENSTRIe , earl of sterline , THOMAS HEYWOOD . 33.
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Specimens of the Early English Poets: To which is Prefixed an ..., Том 3 George Ellis Полный просмотр - 1803 |
Часто встречающиеся слова и выражения
Admet ALPHEUS FELCH Anon Beaumont and Fletcher beauty beauty's Biographia Dramatica birds born breast breath Carew Castara chaste Chloris Corpus Christi College court Cupid dear death delight died disdain dost doth earth Edgar Atheling English Exeter College extracted eyes fair fancy fate fear flame Fletcher flowers folly FRANCIS BEAUMONT GILES FLETCHER grace grief happy hath hear heart heaven honour John Hall joys king kiss Laius language leave lips live lord lov'd Love's Love's cruelty lover maid MATTHEW STEVENSON melancholy mind miscellany mistress morning Muses ne'er never night nymph o'er Oxford passion Phillis Picts pleasure poems poet poetry praise pride printed reign rose Saxon says Wood scorn sighs sing smile SONG SONNET sorrow soul spring stanzas star sweet taste tears tell thee thine thing thou art thought unto wanton weep Whilst wind wings youth
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Стр. 244 - 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?
Стр. 31 - 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.
Стр. 278 - Stone walls do not a prison make, Nor iron bars a cage ; Minds innocent and quiet take That for an hermitage : If I have freedom in my love, And in my soul am free, Angels alone that soar above Enjoy such liberty.
Стр. 275 - 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. 277 - 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 fettered to her eye, The birds that wanton in the air Know no such liberty.
Стр. 194 - Go, lovely rose ! Tell her that wastes her time and me, That now she knows, When I resemble her to thee, How sweet and fair she seems to be. Tell her that's young, And shuns to have her graces spied. That hadst thou sprung In deserts where no men abide, Thou must have uncommended died. Small is the worth Of beauty from the light retired : Bid her come forth, Suffer herself to be desired, And not blush so to be admired. Then die ! that she The common fate of all things rare May read in thee, — How...
Стр. 132 - 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. 85 - 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?
Стр. 222 - 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.
Стр. 63 - Fountain heads and pathless groves, Places which pale passion loves! Moonlight walks, when all the fowls Are warmly housed save bats and owls! A midnight bell, a parting groan, These are the sounds we feed upon; Then stretch our bones in a still gloomy valley; Nothing's so dainty sweet as lovely melancholy.