A Poetry-book of Elder Poets: Consisting of Songs & Sonnets, Odes & Lyrics, Selected and Arranged, with Notes, from the Works of the Elder English Poets, Dating from the Beginning of the Fourteenth Century to the Middle of the Eighteenth CenturyB. Tauchnitz, 1878 - 298 من الصفحات |
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الصفحة 30
... gone ; The flower which them adorn'd is gone to ashes , Never again let lass put girlond on : Instead of girlond wear sad cypress now , And bitter elder broken from the bough . " Ne ever sing the love - lays which he made ; Who ever ...
... gone ; The flower which them adorn'd is gone to ashes , Never again let lass put girlond on : Instead of girlond wear sad cypress now , And bitter elder broken from the bough . " Ne ever sing the love - lays which he made ; Who ever ...
الصفحة 31
... gone ? Scarce like the shadow of that which he was , Nought like , but that he like a shade did pass . " But that immortal spirit , which was deck'd With all the dowries of celestial grace , By sovereign choice from th ' heavenly quires ...
... gone ? Scarce like the shadow of that which he was , Nought like , but that he like a shade did pass . " But that immortal spirit , which was deck'd With all the dowries of celestial grace , By sovereign choice from th ' heavenly quires ...
الصفحة 36
... gone , Now thou art gone , and never must return ! Thee , Shepherd , thee the woods , and desert caves With wild thyme and the gadding vine o'ergrown , And all their echoes , mourn : The willows and the hazel copses green Shall now no ...
... gone , Now thou art gone , and never must return ! Thee , Shepherd , thee the woods , and desert caves With wild thyme and the gadding vine o'ergrown , And all their echoes , mourn : The willows and the hazel copses green Shall now no ...
الصفحة 41
... gone and ta'en thy wages : Golden lads and girls all must , As chimney - sweepers , come to dust . 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 ...
... gone and ta'en thy wages : Golden lads and girls all must , As chimney - sweepers , come to dust . 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 ...
الصفحة 52
... gone : What is it , then , to have , or have no wife , But single thraldom , or a double strife ? Our own affections still at home to please Is a disease : To cross the seas to any foreign soil , Peril and toil : Wars with their noise ...
... gone : What is it , then , to have , or have no wife , But single thraldom , or a double strife ? Our own affections still at home to please Is a disease : To cross the seas to any foreign soil , Peril and toil : Wars with their noise ...
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طبعات أخرى - عرض جميع المقتطفات
عبارات ومصطلحات مألوفة
ALEXANDER SELKIRK AULD ROBIN GRAY BATTLE OF AGINCOURT Beaumont beauty birds Blake breath bright CHRIST'S NATIVITY crown dear death doth earth Elder Poets ELEGY ELIZABETH OF BOHEMIA Eurydice eyes fair fairy fear Fletcher flower golden good-morrow grave green grief grove hand hast hath hear heart heaven Helen honour INVERMAY King Kirconnell kiss ladies light Line live Lord LOVE'S LOVER Lycidas lyre melancholy Milton moon MORNING OF CHRIST'S Mother Muse Nanny ne'er never night nightingale Noroway notes numbers nymph o'er Osiris pale PATRICK SPENCE Phillida flouts Philomela pleasure poem praise Procne queen rose sad cypress satyrs shade Shakespeare shepherds shine sigh sing SIR PATRICK SPENCE sleep smiling SONG sorrow soul sound spring stream swain sweet tears tell Tereus Thammuz thee things tree unto Verse voice wanton warble weep winds wings Yarrow youth
مقاطع مشهورة
الصفحة 19 - To me, fair friend, you never can be old, For as you were when first your eye I eyed, Such seems your beauty still. Three winters cold Have from the forests shook three summers...
الصفحة 203 - How blest is he who crowns in shades like these A youth of labour with an age of ease; Who quits a world where strong temptations try, And, since 'tis hard to combat, learns to fly!
الصفحة 73 - Tu-who, a merry note, While greasy Joan doth keel the pot. When all aloud the wind doth blow And coughing drowns the parson's saw And birds sit brooding in the snow And Marian's nose looks red and raw, When roasted...
الصفحة 139 - Heigh, ho ! sing, heigh, ho ! unto the green holly : Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly Then, heigh, ho, the holly ! This life is most jolly. Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky, That dost not bite so nigh As benefits forgot : Though thou the waters warp, Thy sting is not so sharp As friend remember'd not Heigh, ho ! sing, heigh, ho ! &c.
الصفحة 117 - When Love with unconfine'd wings Hovers within my Gates ; And my divine Althea brings To whisper at the Grates : When I lie tangled in her hair, And fetter'd to her eye ; The Birds, that wanton in the Air, Know no such Liberty.
الصفحة 274 - The lonely mountains o'er And the resounding shore A voice of weeping heard, and loud lament ; From haunted spring and dale Edged with poplar pale The parting Genius is with sighing sent ; With flower-inwoven tresses torn The Nymphs in twilight shade of tangled thickets mourn.
الصفحة 268 - See how from far, upon the eastern road, The star-led wizards haste with odours sweet : O run, prevent them with thy humble ode And lay it lowly at His blessed feet ; Have thou the honour first thy Lord to greet, And join thy voice unto the angel quire From out his secret altar touched with hallowed fire.
الصفحة 146 - O mistress mine, where are you roaming ? O, stay and hear; your true love's coming, That can sing both high and low: Trip no further, pretty sweeting; Journeys end in lovers meeting, Every wise man's son doth know.
الصفحة 82 - Or fill the fixed mind with all your toys! Dwell in some idle brain, And fancies fond with gaudy shapes possess, As thick and numberless As the gay motes that people the sunbeams, Or likest hovering dreams The fickle pensioners of Morpheus
الصفحة 210 - Muse, The place of fame and elegy supply : And many a holy text around she strews, That teach the rustic moralist to die. For who, to dumb forgetfulness a prey, This pleasing anxious being e'er...