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Стр. 335 - Bring oil to fire, snow to their colder moods; Renege, affirm, and turn their halcyon beaks With every gale and vary of their masters, Knowing nought, like dogs, but following.
Стр. 56 - A lovely Ladie rode him faire beside, Upon a lowly Asse more white than snow, Yet she much whiter, but the same did hide Under a vele, that wimpled was full low...
Стр. 243 - Und glauben Sie, glauben Sie mir : wer über gewisse Dinge den Verstand nicht verliert, der hat keinen zu verlieren.
Стр. 47 - To have thy asking, yet wait many years; To fret thy soul with crosses and with cares ; To eat thy heart through comfortless despairs; To fawn, to crouch, to wait, to ride, to run, To spend, to give, to want, to be undone.
Стр. 88 - Je consens qu'une femme ait des clartés de tout, Mais je ne lui veux point la passion choquante De se rendre savante afin d'être savante; Et j'aime que souvent aux questions qu'on fait, Elle sache ignorer les choses qu'elle sait; De son étude enfin je veux qu'elle se cache, Et qu'elle ait du savoir sans vouloir qu'on le sache, Sans citer les auteurs, sans dire de grands mots, Et clouer de l'esprit à ses moindres propos.
Стр. 322 - I knit my handkerchief about your brows, (The best I had ; a princess wrought it me,) And I did never ask it you again ; And with my hand at midnight held your head ; And, like the watchful minutes to the hour, Still and anon cheered up the heavy time ; Saying, What lack you ? and, Where lies your grief?
Стр. 297 - All things that you should use to do me wrong Deny their office: only you do lack That mercy which fierce fire and iron extends, Creatures of note for mercy-lacking uses. Hub. Well, see to live; I will not touch thine eyes For all the treasure that thine uncle owes: Yet am I sworn and I did purpose, boy, With this same very iron to burn them out.
Стр. 59 - And foorth they passe, with pleasure forward led, Joying to heare the birdes sweete harmony, Which, therein shrouded from the tempest dred, Seemd in their song to scorne the cruell sky. Much can they praise the trees so straight and hy, The sayling Pine...
Стр. 51 - Some angell she had beene. Her long loose yellow locks lyke golden wyre, Sprinckled with perle, and perling...
Стр. 59 - The laurell, meed of mightie conquerours And poets sage ; the firre that weepeth still ; The willow, worne of forlorne paramours; The eugh, obedient to the benders will; The birch for shaftes; the sallow for the mill...

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