Chaucer to BurnsWilliam James Linton, Richard Henry Stoddard C. Scribner's Sons, 1883 |
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الصفحة 35
... move , With his bright tead that flames with many a flake , And many a bachelor to wait on him In their fresh garments trim . Bid her awake therefore , and soon her dight ! For lo the wished day is come at last That shall for all the ...
... move , With his bright tead that flames with many a flake , And many a bachelor to wait on him In their fresh garments trim . Bid her awake therefore , and soon her dight ! For lo the wished day is come at last That shall for all the ...
الصفحة 42
... move ! Haste thee , O fairest Planet ! to thy home Within the western foam : Thy tired steeds long since have need of rest . Long though it be , at last I see it gloom , And the bright Evening Star with golden crest Appear out of the ...
... move ! Haste thee , O fairest Planet ! to thy home Within the western foam : Thy tired steeds long since have need of rest . Long though it be , at last I see it gloom , And the bright Evening Star with golden crest Appear out of the ...
الصفحة 52
... move you . Never season was more fit ; Never room more apt for it ; Smiling air allows my reason ; These birds sing- " Now use the season ! " This small wind , which so sweet is , See how it the leaves doth kiss ! Each tree in its best ...
... move you . Never season was more fit ; Never room more apt for it ; Smiling air allows my reason ; These birds sing- " Now use the season ! " This small wind , which so sweet is , See how it the leaves doth kiss ! Each tree in its best ...
الصفحة 54
... move , Lest , though I leave not thy love , Which too deep in me is framed , I should blush when thou art namèd ! - Therewithal away she went , Leaving him so passion - rent With what she had done and spoken , That therewith my song is ...
... move , Lest , though I leave not thy love , Which too deep in me is framed , I should blush when thou art namèd ! - Therewithal away she went , Leaving him so passion - rent With what she had done and spoken , That therewith my song is ...
الصفحة 62
... move Is love , which is the due of love ; And love as well the shepherd can As can the mighty nobleman . Sweet Nymph ! ' tis true you worthy be : Yet without love nought worth to me . THOMAS WATSON . 1557 ? -1592 ? ON SIDNEY'S DEATH ...
... move Is love , which is the due of love ; And love as well the shepherd can As can the mighty nobleman . Sweet Nymph ! ' tis true you worthy be : Yet without love nought worth to me . THOMAS WATSON . 1557 ? -1592 ? ON SIDNEY'S DEATH ...
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عبارات ومصطلحات مألوفة
Ae fond kiss Æneid beauty bel ami BEN JONSON birds bless'd blushing bonnie breast breath bright Cædmon Chaucer cheeks CLORINDA Corydon crown Cuckoo dear death delight divine dost doth earth eyes fair fate fear fire flame flowers FRANCIS DAVISON GILES FLETCHER glory golden grace grief hair hand happy hast hath hear heart heaven heavenly Heigh hither JEAN ELLIOT joys King kiss Lady light lilies lips live look Love is dead Love's lovers Lycidas lyre Maid melancholy merry mind Mistress Muse N'oserez-vous ne'er never night nonny nought numbers Nymphs o'er pity play pleasure poems poet praise Queen RICHARD BROME roses shade shepherds shine sigh sight sing sleep smile song sonnets sorrow soul Spring stars stay sweet tears Tell thine thing thou art thought Tottel's Miscellany true love unto verse voice weep wind wings woods wooing o't wrote
مقاطع مشهورة
الصفحة 225 - Going to the Wars TELL me not, Sweet, I am unkind, That from the nunnery Of thy chaste breast, and quiet mind, To war and arms I fly. True; a new mistress now I chase, The first foe in the field; And with a stronger faith embrace A sword, a horse, a shield. Yet this inconstancy is such, As you too shall adore; I could not love thee, dear, so much, Loved I not honour more.
الصفحة 106 - 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 262 - Forbade to wade through slaughter to a throne And shut the gates of mercy on mankind ; The struggling pangs of conscious truth to hide, To quench the blushes of ingenuous shame...
الصفحة 104 - Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more, Men were deceivers ever, One foot in sea and one on shore, To one thing constant never : Then sigh not so, but let them go, And be you blithe and bonny, Converting all your sounds of woe Into Hey nonny, nonny.
الصفحة 200 - Haste thee, Nymph, and bring with thee Jest and youthful Jollity, Quips, and Cranks, and wanton Wiles, Nods, and Becks, and wreathed Smiles, Such as hang on Hebe's cheek, And love to live in dimple sleek; Sport that wrinkled Care derides, And Laughter holding both his sides.
الصفحة 288 - ... eye Could frame thy fearful symmetry? In what distant deeps or skies Burnt the fire of thine eyes? On what wings dare he aspire? What the hand dare seize the fire ? And what shoulder and what art Could twist the sinews of thy heart? And, when thy heart began to beat, What dread hand and what dread feet? What the hammer? What the chain? In what furnace was thy brain? What the anvil? What dread grasp Dare its deadly terrors clasp? When the stars threw down their spears, And water'd heaven with...
الصفحة 111 - That time of year thou mayst in me behold When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang Upon those boughs which shake against the cold, Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang. In me thou see'st the twilight of such day As after sunset fadeth in the west; Which by and by black night doth take away, Death's second self, that seals up all in rest.
الصفحة 129 - Drink to me only with thine eyes, And I will pledge with mine; Or leave a kiss but in the cup And 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.
الصفحة 110 - Not marble, nor the gilded monuments Of princes, shall out-live this powerful rhyme ; But you shall shine more bright in these contents Than unswept stone, besmear'd with sluttish time. When wasteful war shall statues overturn, And broils root out the work of masonry, Nor Mars his sword, nor war's quick fire shall burn The living record of your memory.
الصفحة 278 - Toll for the brave! Brave Kempenfelt is gone ; His last sea-fight is fought, His work of glory done. It was not in the battle ; No tempest gave the shock; She sprang no fatal leak, She ran upon no rock. His sword was in its sheath, His fingers held the pen, When Kempenfelt went down With twice four hundred men.