English LyricsKegan Paul, Trench & Company, 1883 - Всего страниц: 296 |
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Стр. 12
... cold and nothing coy , Since age Keep close thy coin , for so is best . With lullaby be thou content ; With lullaby thy lusts relent . Let others pay which have more pence ; Thou art too poor for such expense . Thus lullaby my youth ...
... cold and nothing coy , Since age Keep close thy coin , for so is best . With lullaby be thou content ; With lullaby thy lusts relent . Let others pay which have more pence ; Thou art too poor for such expense . Thus lullaby my youth ...
Стр. 50
... leaves of myrtle . A jaunty gown of finest wool , Which from our pretty lambs we pull ; And shoes lined choicely for the cold , With buckles of the purest gold . A belt of straw , and ivy buds , With 50 ENGLISH LYRICS . Song.
... leaves of myrtle . A jaunty gown of finest wool , Which from our pretty lambs we pull ; And shoes lined choicely for the cold , With buckles of the purest gold . A belt of straw , and ivy buds , With 50 ENGLISH LYRICS . Song.
Стр. 64
... cold ; Youth is wild , and age is tame . Age , I do abhor thee ; youth , I do adore thee ; O ! my love , my love is young . Age , I do defy thee : O ! sweet shepherd , hie thee , For methinks thou stayest too long . XLIII . SIR HENRY ...
... cold ; Youth is wild , and age is tame . Age , I do abhor thee ; youth , I do adore thee ; O ! my love , my love is young . Age , I do defy thee : O ! sweet shepherd , hie thee , For methinks thou stayest too long . XLIII . SIR HENRY ...
Стр. 105
... And e'en with cold half starved . I pitiful arose , And soon a taper lighted ; And did myself disclose Unto the lad benighted . I saw he had a bow , And wings too ROBERT HERRICK . 105 The Cheat of Cupid; or, ungentle Guest.
... And e'en with cold half starved . I pitiful arose , And soon a taper lighted ; And did myself disclose Unto the lad benighted . I saw he had a bow , And wings too ROBERT HERRICK . 105 The Cheat of Cupid; or, ungentle Guest.
Стр. 115
... cold , cold earth doth shake him ; But I will go , or send a kiss By you , sir , to awake him . Pray hurt him not ; though he be dead , He knows well who do love him , And who with green - turfs rear his head , And who do rudely move ...
... cold , cold earth doth shake him ; But I will go , or send a kiss By you , sir , to awake him . Pray hurt him not ; though he be dead , He knows well who do love him , And who with green - turfs rear his head , And who do rudely move ...
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Часто встречающиеся слова и выражения
adieu Love Anthony Wood beauty BEN JONSON best fits birds blow breast breath bright brow cold County Guy Cymbeline Cynthia's Revels dead dear death delight doth earth England's Helicon eyes fancy fear fits a little flowers give gone grave hath heart heaven Honour lady leaves light live look love anew Love's lovers Lucasta lulla lullaby lyric maid Master Constable Melicertus mind morning ne'er never Nice Valour night nonny numbers o'er old familiar faces pain Phillada flouts Phillis pity poem Queen roses Sally shine sighs sight sing Sir Walter Scott sleep smile SONG sorrow soul spring stars tears tell thee thine things Thomas Dekker Thomas Farnaby thou art thou dost Thou hast Thou lovest amiss thought toil unto untrue Love verse wanton waves weep William Haughton winds wings winter WINTHROP MACKWORTH PRAED youth
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Стр. 130 - 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. 198 - 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. 146 - 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 honor more.
Стр. 61 - Orpheus with his lute made trees, And the mountain tops that freeze, Bow themselves when he did sing ; To his music plants and flowers Ever sprung, as sun and showers There had made a lasting spring. Every thing that heard him play, Even the billows of the sea, Hung their heads, and then lay by. In sweet music is such art, Killing care and grief of heart Fall asleep, or hearing die.
Стр. 72 - A HYMN TO GOD THE FATHER. W ILT 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. 201 - Will no one tell me what she sings? — Perhaps the plaintive numbers flow For old, unhappy, far-off things, And battles long ago: Or is it some more humble lay, Familiar matter of to-day? Some natural sorrow, loss, or pain, That has been, and may be again?
Стр. 80 - DRINK to me only with thine eyes, And I will pledge with mine; Or leave a kiss but in the cup, And I'll not look for wine. The thirst that from the soul doth rise Doth ask a drink divine; But might I of Jove's nectar sup, I would not change for thine.
Стр. 75 - 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. 218 - The spirits of your fathers Shall start from every wave— For the deck it was their field of fame, And Ocean was their grave...
Стр. 87 - 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...