Chaucer to BurnsWilliam James Linton C. Scribner's Sons, 1883 |
من داخل الكتاب
النتائج 1-5 من 35
الصفحة xxi
... virtue of his nat- ural gifts , he was the greatest of narrative poets by virtue of his knowledge of mankind . His range was large , and his sympathies quick . Idealist and realist , nothing was too high or too low for his pencil ...
... virtue of his nat- ural gifts , he was the greatest of narrative poets by virtue of his knowledge of mankind . His range was large , and his sympathies quick . Idealist and realist , nothing was too high or too low for his pencil ...
الصفحة xxxii
... virtue with which he plies the lash , and which gives him such a savage delight , is a vice in disguise . His hatred of vice is more monstrous than vice itself . So thought the Archbishop of Canter- bury and Bishop of London , the ...
... virtue with which he plies the lash , and which gives him such a savage delight , is a vice in disguise . His hatred of vice is more monstrous than vice itself . So thought the Archbishop of Canter- bury and Bishop of London , the ...
الصفحة xxxvi
... virtue , with his translation of the Psalms ( 1632 ) ; then Sandys , son of the Archbishop of York , and translator of Ovid's Metamor- phoses , with his Paraphrase of the Psalms ( 1636 ) ; and then Crashaw , a Fellow of Peterhouse , who ...
... virtue , with his translation of the Psalms ( 1632 ) ; then Sandys , son of the Archbishop of York , and translator of Ovid's Metamor- phoses , with his Paraphrase of the Psalms ( 1636 ) ; and then Crashaw , a Fellow of Peterhouse , who ...
الصفحة 7
... virtue and of gentleness ! Delightsome Lily of every lustiness ! Richest in bounty and in beauty clear And every virtue that to heaven is dear , Except only that ye are merciless ! Into your garth this day I did pursue : There saw I ...
... virtue and of gentleness ! Delightsome Lily of every lustiness ! Richest in bounty and in beauty clear And every virtue that to heaven is dear , Except only that ye are merciless ! Into your garth this day I did pursue : There saw I ...
الصفحة 11
... virtues hath she many moe Than I with pen have skill to show . I could rehearse , if that I would , The whole effect of Nature's plaint , When she had lost the perfect mould , The like to whom she could not paint : With wringing hands ...
... virtues hath she many moe Than I with pen have skill to show . I could rehearse , if that I would , The whole effect of Nature's plaint , When she had lost the perfect mould , The like to whom she could not paint : With wringing hands ...
عبارات ومصطلحات مألوفة
Ae fond kiss Æneid beauty bel ami BEN JONSON birds bless'd blushing bonnie breast breath bright Chaucer cheeks CLORINDA Corydon crown Cuckoo dear death delight divine dost doth earth eyes fair fate fear fire flame flowers FRANCIS BEAUMONT FRANCIS DAVISON GILES FLETCHER glory golden grace grief hair hand happy hast hath hear heart heaven heavenly JEAN ELLIOT joys King kiss Lady light lilies lips live look Love is dead Love's lovers Lycidas 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 sweet tears Tell thine thing thou art thought Tottel's Miscellany true love unto verse virtue WALTER DAVISON weep wind wings wither woods wooing o't wrote
مقاطع مشهورة
الصفحة 109 - When to the sessions of sweet silent thought I summon up remembrance of things past, I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought, And with old woes new wail my dear time's waste...
الصفحة 227 - 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 263 - The curfew tolls the knell of parting day, The lowing herd wind slowly o'er the lea, The ploughman homeward plods his weary way, And leaves the world to darkness and to me. Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight, And all the air a solemn stillness holds, Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight, And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds...
الصفحة 264 - 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 290 - ... 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 206 - Hermes, or unsphere The spirit of Plato, to unfold What worlds or what vast regions hold The immortal mind that hath forsook Her mansion in this fleshly nook...
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.