Specimens of the Early English Poets: To which is Prefixed an Historical Sketch of the Rise and Progress of the English Poetry and Language, Том 1Bulmer, 1803 - Всего страниц: 458 |
Результаты поиска по книге
Результаты 6 – 10 из 32
Стр. 54
... served with great distinction in his father's army , which marched against the Scots in 1542 , and contributed , by his skill and bravery , to the memorable victory of Flodden Field . In 1544 , he commanded , as field - marshal , the ...
... served with great distinction in his father's army , which marched against the Scots in 1542 , and contributed , by his skill and bravery , to the memorable victory of Flodden Field . In 1544 , he commanded , as field - marshal , the ...
Стр. 65
... serve for to disarm The frozen heart that mine in flame hath made ? What cold again is able to restore I My fresh green years , that wither thus and fade ? And like as time list to my cure apply , So doth each place my comfort clean ...
... serve for to disarm The frozen heart that mine in flame hath made ? What cold again is able to restore I My fresh green years , that wither thus and fade ? And like as time list to my cure apply , So doth each place my comfort clean ...
Стр. 85
... served you at all assays , " I yield to you , without delay , " Here of the fortress all the keys . " And sith that I have been the mark " At whom you shot at with your eye , " Needs must you with your handy - wark , 2 " Or salve my ...
... served you at all assays , " I yield to you , without delay , " Here of the fortress all the keys . " And sith that I have been the mark " At whom you shot at with your eye , " Needs must you with your handy - wark , 2 " Or salve my ...
Стр. 136
... serve than Paris had , Small pain ( if none be small enow ) To find good store of Helen's trade ; Such sap the root doth yield the bough ! For one good wife , Ulysses slew A worthy knot of gentle blood : For one ill wife , Greece ...
... serve than Paris had , Small pain ( if none be small enow ) To find good store of Helen's trade ; Such sap the root doth yield the bough ! For one good wife , Ulysses slew A worthy knot of gentle blood : For one ill wife , Greece ...
Стр. 145
... serve I choosed out : Still yours am I , though thus the time hath past , And trust to be , as long as life shall last . Good huswifely physick . GOOD huswife provides , ere a sickness do come , Of sundry good things in her house to ...
... serve I choosed out : Still yours am I , though thus the time hath past , And trust to be , as long as life shall last . Good huswifely physick . GOOD huswife provides , ere a sickness do come , Of sundry good things in her house to ...
Другие издания - Просмотреть все
Specimens of the Early English Poets: To which is Prefixed an ..., Том 1 George Ellis Полный просмотр - 1801 |
Часто встречающиеся слова и выражения
Astrophel and Stella beauty bird bliss born breast Chaucer cheer Christ's College court Cupid dainty dame dear death delight disdain doth E'en earl England's Helicon English eyes fair faith farewell favour fear flowers following specimens Gloss Gorboduc grace green Greensleeves grief hairs Harpalus hath heart heaven Henry VIII honour king kiss lady live look lord lov'd Love's lover lullaby lute mind mourning Muse never night nought Oxford pain pity poems poetical poetry poets praise prep printed pron Puttenham Queen reign scorn shepherd sighs sight sing Sir Philip Sidney Sir Thomas Wyatt Sith song SONNET soul summer queen sweet tears tell thee thine thing thou thought translated tree unto verse Vide Sibbald Warton wight wind wine Wood words worth marriage wouldest not love youth
Популярные отрывки
Стр. 349 - Come away, come away, death, And in sad cypress let me be laid; Fly away, fly away, breath; I am slain by a fair cruel maid. My shroud of white, stuck all with yew, O prepare it. My part of death, no one so true Did share it.
Стр. 389 - 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. I sent thee late a rosy wreath, Not so much honouring thee As giving it a hope that there It could not withered be; But thou thereon didst only breathe And sent'st it back to me; Since when it grows, and smells, I swear, Not of itself but thee!
Стр. 352 - Being your slave, what should I do but tend Upon the hours and times of your desire? I have no precious time at all to spend, Nor services to do, till you require.
Стр. 351 - Fear no more the frown o' the great; Thou art past the tyrant's stroke; Care no more to clothe and eat; To thee the reed is as the oak : The sceptre, learning, physic, must All follow this, and come to dust.
Стр. 334 - Tell them that brave it most, They beg for more by spending, Who, in their greatest cost, Seek nothing but commending: And if they make reply Then give them all the lie.
Стр. 346 - Now the wasted brands do glow, Whilst the screech-owl, screeching loud, Puts the wretch that lies in woe In remembrance of a shroud. Now it is the time of night ' That the graves, all gaping wide, Every one lets forth his sprite, In the church-way paths to glide...
Стр. 220 - Time drives the flocks from field to fold, When Rivers rage, and Rocks grow cold, And Philomel becometh dumb, The rest complains of cares to come. The flowers do fade, and wanton fields, To wayward winter reckoning yields, A honey tongue, a heart of gall, Is fancy's spring, but sorrow's fall.
Стр. 388 - Come, my Celia, let us prove, While we can, the sports of love, Time will not be ours for ever, He, at length, our good will sever; Spend not then his gifts in vain; Suns, that set, may rise again ; . But if once we lose this light, 'Tis with us perpetual night.
Стр. 243 - CUPID and my Campaspe played At cards for kisses — Cupid paid; He stakes his quiver, bow and arrows, His mother's doves, and team of sparrows ; Loses them too; then down he throws The coral of his lip, the rose Growing on's cheek (but none knows how), With these, the crystal of his brow, And then the dimple of his chin ; All these did my Campaspe win. At last he set her both his eyes, She won, and Cupid blind did rise. O Love! has she done this to thee? What shall, alas! become of me?* THE SONGS...
Стр. 348 - Tell me where is fancy bred, Or in the heart or in the head ? How begot, how nourished? Reply, reply. It is engender'd in the eyes, With gazing fed ; and fancy dies In the cradle where it lies. Let us all ring fancy's knell : I'll begin it, — Ding, dong, bell ALL.