Favourite English Poems: Chaucer to Pope, 1350-1700Sampson Low, Son & Company, 1863 |
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الصفحة 47
... sound went with the river as it ran , Out through the fresh and flourished lusty vale ; O Merle quoth she , O fool ! stint of thy tale , For in thy song good sentence is there none , For both is tint , the time and the travail Of every ...
... sound went with the river as it ran , Out through the fresh and flourished lusty vale ; O Merle quoth she , O fool ! stint of thy tale , For in thy song good sentence is there none , For both is tint , the time and the travail Of every ...
الصفحة 51
... sound Of this or that as liketh me ; For lack of wit the Lute is bound To give such tunes as pleaseth me ; Though my songs be somewhat strange , And speak such words as touch my change , Blame not my Lute ! 52 My Lute , alas ! doth not ...
... sound Of this or that as liketh me ; For lack of wit the Lute is bound To give such tunes as pleaseth me ; Though my songs be somewhat strange , And speak such words as touch my change , Blame not my Lute ! 52 My Lute , alas ! doth not ...
الصفحة 52
... sound such tunes as I intend , To sing to them that heareth me ; Then though my songs be somewhat plain , And toucheth some that use to feign , Blame not my Lute ! My Lute and strings may not deny , But as I strike they must obey ...
... sound such tunes as I intend , To sing to them that heareth me ; Then though my songs be somewhat plain , And toucheth some that use to feign , Blame not my Lute ! My Lute and strings may not deny , But as I strike they must obey ...
الصفحة 53
... sound that same ; But if till then my fingers play , By thy desert their wonted way , Blame not my Lute ! Farewell ! unknown ; for though thou break My strings in spite with great disdain , Yet have I found out for thy sake , Strings ...
... sound that same ; But if till then my fingers play , By thy desert their wonted way , Blame not my Lute ! Farewell ! unknown ; for though thou break My strings in spite with great disdain , Yet have I found out for thy sake , Strings ...
الصفحة 56
... sound of plaint . Thus I alone , where all my freedom grew , In prison pine with bondage and restraint , And with remembrance of the greater grief To banish the less , I find my chief relief . PALMER " THE SOOTE SEASON . " THE Soote ...
... sound of plaint . Thus I alone , where all my freedom grew , In prison pine with bondage and restraint , And with remembrance of the greater grief To banish the less , I find my chief relief . PALMER " THE SOOTE SEASON . " THE Soote ...
عبارات ومصطلحات مألوفة
afterwards anon beauty became BEN JONSON berd birds BIRKET FOSTER born Canterbury CANTERBURY TALES CHRISTOPHER MARLOW death delight died doth E. M. WIMPERIS Earl EDMUND SPENSER educated at Cambridge educated at Oxford eyen eyes Faerie Queene fair fairy fear flowers GEORGE THOMAS GEORGE WITHER GILES FLETCHER give grace green gret hast hath heart heaven hire honour Hudibras JOHN GILBERT JOHN LYDGATE king lady live Lord love is lost Love makis lovers Lovis service lulla lullaby lusty Lute Merle merry mind mirth night Nightingale nought o'er old cap poems prison Queen rede RICHARD LOVELACE ROBERT GREENE SAMUEL DANIEL Seint SHAKSPEARE shal shepherd swain shulde sing SIR PHILIP SIDNEY sleep smale song soul speke spring sweet desires gain swiche tale Tell tellen thee therto thing thou unto wanton Wel coude Westminster Abbey whan wight Withouten wolde young courtier youth
مقاطع مشهورة
الصفحة 176 - 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.
الصفحة 223 - Meanwhile the mind, from pleasure less, Withdraws into its happiness; The mind, that ocean where each kind Does straight its own resemblance find; Yet it creates, transcending these, Far other worlds, and other seas; Annihilating all that's made To a green thought in a green shade.
الصفحة 248 - Bacchus' blessings are a treasure, Drinking is the soldier's pleasure: Rich the treasure, Sweet the pleasure, Sweet is pleasure after pain. Soothed with the sound, the king grew vain; Fought all his battles o'er again, And thrice he routed all his foes, and thrice he slew the slain!
الصفحة 74 - And I will make thee beds of roses And a thousand fragrant posies, A cap of flowers, and a kirtle Embroidered all with leaves of myrtle.
الصفحة 72 - But if Fortune once do frown, Then farewell his great renown ; They that fawn'd on him before Use his company no more. He that is thy friend indeed, He will help thee in thy need : If thou sorrow, he will weep ; If thou wake, he cannot sleep ; Thus of every grief in heart He with thee doth bear a part. These are certain signs to know Faithful friend from flattering foe.
الصفحة 245 - TWAS at the royal feast for Persia won By Philip's warlike son: Aloft in awful state The godlike hero sate On his imperial throne...
الصفحة 144 - Get up, get up for shame ! the blooming morn Upon her wings presents the god unshorn. See how Aurora throws her fair Fresh-quilted colours through the air: Get up, sweet slug-a-bed, and see The dew bespangling herb and tree. Each flower has wept, and bow'd toward the east. Above an hour since ; yet you not drest, Nay ! not so much as out of bed ? When all the birds have matins said, And sung their thankful hymns : 'tis sin, Nay, profanation, to keep in, — Whenas a thousand virgins on this day,...
الصفحة 107 - IF all the world and love were young, And truth in every shepherd's tongue, These pretty pleasures might me move To live with thee and be thy love.
الصفحة 285 - Soon as the evening shades prevail, The moon takes up the wondrous tale, And nightly to the listening earth Repeats the story of her birth : Whilst all the stars that round her burn, And all the planets in their turn, Confirm the tidings as they roll, And spread the truth from pole to pole. What though, in solemn silence, all Move round the dark terrestrial ball?
الصفحة 61 - With how sad steps, O Moon, thou climb'st the skies ; How silently ; and with how wan a face ! What ! may it be, that even in heavenly place That busy Archer his sharp arrows tries ? Sure, if that long-with-love-acquainted eyes Can judge of love, thou feel'st a lover's case ; I read it in thy looks ; thy languisht grace To me, that feel the like, thy state descries...