 Love in my bosom like a bee Doth suck his sweet: Now with his wings he plays with me, Now with his feet. Within mine eyes he makes his nest, His bed amidst my tender breast; My kisses are his daily feast, And yet he robs me of my rest. Ah, wanton, will...  Relics of Literature - Стр. 8авторы: Reuben Percy - 1823 - Страниц: 400Полный просмотр - Подробнее о книге
 | Thomas Miller - 1842 - Страниц: 410
...suck his sweet ; Now with his wings he plays with me, Now with his feet. Within mine eyes he make* his nest, His bed amid my tender breast, My kisses...are his daily feast, And yet he robs me of my rest, — Ah ! wanton, will ye 7 " And if I sleep, then pierceth he With pretty slight, And makes his pillow... | |
 | Nathan Drake - 1843 - Страниц: 690
...with his wings he plays with me, Now with his feet. Within mine eyes he makes his rest; His bed amidst my tender breast ; My kisses are his daily feast; And yet he robs me of my rest. Ah, wanton, will ye ? " — "Compare Dr. Lodge not only with his contemporaries but his succours and... | |
 | 1844 - Страниц: 148
...with his wings he plays with me, Now with his feet. Within mine eyes he makes his nest, His bed amidst my tender breast ; My kisses are his daily feast, And yet he robs me of my rest, — Ah 1 wanton, will ye I And if I sleep, then piereeth he With pretty slight, And makes his pillow... | |
 | 1866 - Страниц: 924
...his wings he plays with me, Now with his feet j Within mine eyes he makes his nest, His bed, amidst my tender breast ; My kisses are his daily feast, And yet he robs me of my rest : Ah I wanton, will you? And if I sleep, then pierceth he With pretty slight, And makes his pillow... | |
 | William Shakespeare - 1844 - Страниц: 554
...with l,is wings he playa with me, Now with his feet Within mine eyes he makes his nest, His bed amidst my tender breast ; . My kisses are his daily feast ; And yet he robs me of my rest Ah, wanton, will ye ? And if I sleep, then percheth he With pretty flight, And makes a pillow of my... | |
 | 1841 - Страниц: 178
...my bosom, like a bee Doth suck his sweet ; Now with his wings he plays with me, Now with his feet. Within mine eyes he makes his nest, His bed amid my...feast ; And yet he robs me of my rest. Strike I my lute — he tunes the string, He music plays if I do sing; He lends me every living thing, Yet, cruel,... | |
 | William Shakespeare - 1846 - Страниц: 560
...with bis wings he plays with me, Now wltb his feet. Within mine eyes he makes his nest, His bed amidst my tender breast; My kisses are his daily feast; And yet he robs me of my rest Ah, wanton, will ye I And if I sleep, then percheth he With pretty flight,' And makes a pillow of my... | |
 | Gift - 1846 - Страниц: 268
...with his wings he plays with me, Now with his feet. Within mine eyes he makes his nest, His bed amidst my tender breast ; My kisses are his daily feast, And yet he robs me of my rest, — Ah ! wanton, will ye ! And if I sleep, then pierceth he With pretty slight, And makes his pillow... | |
 | Thomas Miller - 1847 - Страниц: 288
...my bosom, like a bee, Doth suck his sweet ; Now with his wings he plays with me, Now with his feet ; Within mine eyes he makes his nest, His bed amid my...are his daily feast, And yet he robs me of my rest. And if I sleep, then pierceth he With pretty slight, And makes his pillow of my knee The live-long... | |
 | Robert Chambers - 1849 - Страниц: 708
...his wings he plays with me, Now with his feet. Within mine eyes he makes his nest, Hi« bed amid.it : Ah, wanton, will ye ! And if I sleep, then percheth he With pretty flight, And makes his pillow of... | |
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