The Works of the British Poets: With Prefaces, Biographical and Critical ... |
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الصفحة 24
My face in thine eye , thine in mine appcars , Confess it : this cannot be said And
true plain hearts do in the faces rest : A fin or shame , or loss of maidenhead ;
Where can we find two fitter hemispheres Yet this enjoys before it woo , Without ...
My face in thine eye , thine in mine appcars , Confess it : this cannot be said And
true plain hearts do in the faces rest : A fin or shame , or loss of maidenhead ;
Where can we find two fitter hemispheres Yet this enjoys before it woo , Without ...
الصفحة 25
Thy beams fo reverend and strong , Or , as true deaths true marriages untie , Dost
thou not think So lovers contracts , images of those , I could eclipse and cloud
them with a wink , Bind but till Sleep , Death's image , them unloose ? But that I ...
Thy beams fo reverend and strong , Or , as true deaths true marriages untie , Dost
thou not think So lovers contracts , images of those , I could eclipse and cloud
them with a wink , Bind but till Sleep , Death's image , them unloose ? But that I ...
الصفحة 26
Which think to ' stablish dangerous conftancy ; The phenix riddle hath more wit
But I have told them , since you will be true , By us ; we two , being one , are it ;
You shall be true to them who're false to you . So to one neutral thing both sexes
fit .
Which think to ' stablish dangerous conftancy ; The phenix riddle hath more wit
But I have told them , since you will be true , By us ; we two , being one , are it ;
You shall be true to them who're false to you . So to one neutral thing both sexes
fit .
الصفحة 28
O wrangling Schools ! that search what fire Shall burn this world : had none the
wit ' Tis true , ' t is day ; what though it be ? Unto this knowledge to aspire , O ! wilt
thou therefore rise from me ? That this her Fever might be ir ? Why should we ...
O wrangling Schools ! that search what fire Shall burn this world : had none the
wit ' Tis true , ' t is day ; what though it be ? Unto this knowledge to aspire , O ! wilt
thou therefore rise from me ? That this her Fever might be ir ? Why should we ...
الصفحة 29
When love and grief their exaltation had , O perverse sex ! where none is true but
she , No door ' gainst this name's influence shut ; Who's therefore true , because
her truth kills me . As much more loving as more fad ' Twill make thee ; and thou ...
When love and grief their exaltation had , O perverse sex ! where none is true but
she , No door ' gainst this name's influence shut ; Who's therefore true , because
her truth kills me . As much more loving as more fad ' Twill make thee ; and thou ...
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arms bear beauty beſt better blood body bring brought cauſe comes courſe court crown dead death doth earth eyes face fair fall fame fear fight fire firſt force foul friends give glory grace grief grow hand hate hath head hear heart heav'n himſelf hold honour hope keep king land laſt late learned leave leſs light live look Lord mind moſt move muſe muſt nature never night once pain plain play poor pow'r praiſe prince reſt round ſame ſay ſee ſeem ſet ſhall ſhe ſhould ſince ſome ſoul ſpring ſtand ſtate ſtay ſtill ſuch ſweet tears tell thee theſe thine things thoſe thou thought true turn unto virtue whole whoſe worth wound wrong
مقاطع مشهورة
الصفحة 541 - 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 540 - While we can, the sports of love. Time will not be ours for ever, He, at length, our good will sever; Spend not then his gifts in vain. Suns that set may rise again: But if once we lose this light, 'Tis with us perpetual night.
الصفحة 594 - IF I freely may discover What would please me in my lover, I would have her fair and witty, Savouring more of court than city ; A little proud, but full of pity ; Light and humorous in her toying ; Oft...
الصفحة 537 - The applause, delight, the wonder of our stage! My Shakespeare, rise; I will not lodge thee by Chaucer, or Spenser, or bid Beaumont lie A little further to make thee a room; Thou art a monument, without a tomb, And art alive still, while thy book doth live And we have wits to read and praise to give.
الصفحة 35 - When my grave is broke up again Some second guest to entertain (For graves have learned that womanhead To be to more than one a bed), And he that digs it spies A bracelet of bright hair about the bone...
الصفحة 547 - No, Both wills were in one stature ; And as that wisdom had decreed, The Word was now made Flesh indeed, And took on him our nature. What comfort by Him do we win, Who made Himself the price of sin, To make us heirs of Glory ! To see this babe, all innocence, A martyr born in our defence : Can man forget this...
الصفحة 594 - Though I am young and cannot tell Either what Death or Love is well, Yet, I have heard they both bear darts, And both do aim at human hearts : And then again, I have been told, Love wounds with heat, as Death with cold ; So that I fear they do but bring Extremes to touch, and mean one thing. As in a ruin we it call One thing to be blown up or fall ; Or to our end, like way may have By...
الصفحة 32 - To move, but doth, if th' other do. And though it in the centre sit, Yet, when the other far doth roam, It leans, and hearkens after it, And grows erect, as that comes home. Such wilt thou be to me, who must, Like th' other foot, obliquely run; Thy firmness makes my circle just, And makes me end where I begun.
الصفحة 25 - Must to thy motions lovers' seasons run? Saucy pedantic wretch, go chide Late schoolboys and sour prentices; Go tell court-huntsmen that the king will ride, Call country ants to harvest offices; Love, all alike, no season knows nor clime, Nor hours, days, months, which are the rags of time.
الصفحة 522 - Seven years thou wert lent to me, and I thee pay, Exacted by thy fate, on the just day. O, could I lose all father, now! For why Will man lament the state he should envy? To have so soon 'scaped world's and flesh's rage, And, if no other misery, yet age! Rest in soft peace; and, asked, say: Here doth lie Ben Jonson his best piece of poetry...
معلومات المراجع
| العنوان | The Works of the British Poets: With Prefaces, Biographical and Critical ... المجلد 4 من The Works of the British Poets: With Prefaces, Biographical and Critical, Robert Anderson |
| المُحرر | Robert Anderson |
| الناشر | Arch, 1795 |
| أصلي من | مكتبة نيويورك العامة |
| الكتب ذات التنسيق الرقمي | 4 تشرين الأول (أكتوبر) 2006 |
| تصدير الاقتباس | BiBTeX EndNote RefMan |