Flowers and Fruit Gathered by Loving Hands from Old English GardensEmily Taylor Houlston & Wright, 1864 - 182 من الصفحات |
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الصفحة 14
... night ; For in your eyes they sit , and there Fix'd become , as in their sphere . Ask me no more , if east or west The phoenix builds her spicy nest ; For unto you at last she flies , And in your fragrant bosom dies . CAREW . 1589-1639 ...
... night ; For in your eyes they sit , and there Fix'd become , as in their sphere . Ask me no more , if east or west The phoenix builds her spicy nest ; For unto you at last she flies , And in your fragrant bosom dies . CAREW . 1589-1639 ...
الصفحة 15
... night . I could rehearse , if that I would , The whole effect of Nature's plaint , When she had lost the perfect mould , The like to which she could not paint ; With wringing hands how she did cry ! And what she said , I know it , I. I ...
... night . I could rehearse , if that I would , The whole effect of Nature's plaint , When she had lost the perfect mould , The like to which she could not paint ; With wringing hands how she did cry ! And what she said , I know it , I. I ...
الصفحة 22
... night no care I take . Bound to none my fortunes be , This or that man's fall I fear not ; Him I love that loveth me , For the rest a pin I care not . You are sad when others chafe , And grow merry as they laugh ; I that hate it , and ...
... night no care I take . Bound to none my fortunes be , This or that man's fall I fear not ; Him I love that loveth me , For the rest a pin I care not . You are sad when others chafe , And grow merry as they laugh ; I that hate it , and ...
الصفحة 23
... night we banish sorrow ; 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 ...
... night we banish sorrow ; 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 ...
الصفحة 31
... night will come , when men will swear Time has spilt snow upon your hair . Then , when before your glass you seek But find no rosebud on your cheek , No , nor the bed to give the shew Whence such a rare carnation grew , And such a ...
... night will come , when men will swear Time has spilt snow upon your hair . Then , when before your glass you seek But find no rosebud on your cheek , No , nor the bed to give the shew Whence such a rare carnation grew , And such a ...
عبارات ومصطلحات مألوفة
awake beams beauty BEN JONSON birds BISHOP KING blest breath bright clouds dart dear death delight dost doth dust dwell E'en earth EPITAPH Extra cloth eyes fair fall farewell fate fear flame flowers folly fortune's FRANCIS QUARLES GEORGE WITHER GILES FLETCHER Gilt edges give glorious glory grace grave grief happy hath heart heaven heavenly heigh Henry Lawes HENRY VAUGHAN HERRICK honour hope hour humble JAMES SHIRLEY JOHN AUSTIN JONSON light live look Lord Love's lovers mind morning ne'er never night peace PHINEAS FLETCHER pleasure praise proud ROBERT HERRICK ROBERT SOUTHWELL rose Say nay SHAKESPEARE Shepherd shine sighs sing SIR WALTER RALEIGH sleep smiles SONG SONNET soul spring stars stay sweet sweetly tears Tell thee thine things Thou art thoughts unto virgin train virtue vows weep wind wisdom WITHER youth
مقاطع مشهورة
الصفحة 60 - You haste away so soon; As yet the early-rising Sun Has not attain'd his noon. Stay, stay Until the hasting day Has run But to the even-song; And, having pray'd together, we Will go with you along. We have short time to stay, as you, We have as short a Spring ; As quick a growth to meet decay As you, or any thing.
الصفحة 73 - Anon permit the basest clouds to ride With ugly rack on his celestial face, And from the forlorn world his visage hide, Stealing unseen to west with this disgrace : » Referring to the obsequies for the dead.
الصفحة 44 - Saturn laugh'd and leap'd with him. Yet nor the lays of birds nor the sweet smell Of different flowers in odour and in hue Could make me any summer's story tell, Or from their proud lap pluck them where they grew ; Nor did I wonder at the lily's white, Nor praise the deep vermilion in the rose ; They were but sweet, but figures of delight, Drawn after you, you pattern of all those. Yet seem'd it winter still, and, you away, As with your shadow I with these did play...
الصفحة 35 - A gown made of the finest wool, Which from our pretty lambs we pull, Fair lined slippers for the cold, With buckles of the purest gold. A belt of straw and ivy buds With coral clasps and amber studs : And if these pleasures may thee move, Come live with me and be my Love.
الصفحة 78 - Fear no more the heat o' the sun, Nor the furious winter's rages ; Thou thy worldly task hast done, Home art gone and ta'en thy wages : Golden lads and girls all must, As chimney-sweepers, come to dust. Arv. Fear no more the frown o...
الصفحة 34 - Embroidered all with leaves of myrtle; A gown made of the finest wool, Which from our pretty lambs we pull...
الصفحة 40 - Since ghost there is none to affright thee. Let not the dark thee cumber ; What though the moon does slumber? The stars of the night Will lend thee their light, Like tapers clear without number.
الصفحة 46 - Since first I saw you fresh, which yet are green. Ah ! yet doth beauty, like a dial-hand, Steal from his figure and no pace...
الصفحة 119 - Some men with swords may reap the field, And plant fresh laurels where they kill: But their strong nerves at last must yield; They tame but one another still: Early or late They stoop to fate, And must give up their murmuring breath, When they, pale captives, creep to death. The garlands wither on your brow, Then boast no more your mighty deeds; Upon Death's purple altar now See, where the victor-victim bleeds: Your heads must come To the cold tomb; Only the actions of the just Smell sweet, and blossom...
الصفحة 117 - I had not walked above A mile, or two, from my first love, And looking back (at that short space) Could see a glimpse of his bright face ; When on some gilded Cloud, or flower My gazing soul would dwell an hour, And in those weaker glories spy Some shadows of eternity...