Specimens of the British PoetsJ. Murray, 1844 - 716 من الصفحات |
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الصفحة xxxviii
... born at Brunne . - Havelok , p . xiv . ] ↑ Peter de Langtoft was an Augustine canon of Bridling- ton , in Yorkshire , of Norman origin , but born in England . He wrote an entire History of England in French rhymes , down to the end of ...
... born at Brunne . - Havelok , p . xiv . ] ↑ Peter de Langtoft was an Augustine canon of Bridling- ton , in Yorkshire , of Norman origin , but born in England . He wrote an entire History of England in French rhymes , down to the end of ...
الصفحة 15
... Born . Was born at a place of that name in Suffolk , about the year 1375. His translation ( taken through the medium of Laurence's version ) of Boccaccio's Fall of Princes , was begun while Henry VI . was in France , where that king ...
... Born . Was born at a place of that name in Suffolk , about the year 1375. His translation ( taken through the medium of Laurence's version ) of Boccaccio's Fall of Princes , was begun while Henry VI . was in France , where that king ...
الصفحة 18
... born to serve . In his tale of Squyre Meldrum we lose sight of the reformer . It is a little ro- mance , very amusing as a draught of Scottish chivalrous manners , apparently drawn from the life , and blending a sportive and familiar ...
... born to serve . In his tale of Squyre Meldrum we lose sight of the reformer . It is a little ro- mance , very amusing as a draught of Scottish chivalrous manners , apparently drawn from the life , and blending a sportive and familiar ...
الصفحة 30
... born . The mistakes of such writers may teach charity to criticism . Dr. Nott , who has cleared away much fable and anachronism from the noble poet's biography , supposes that he was born in or about the year 1516 , and that he was ...
... born . The mistakes of such writers may teach charity to criticism . Dr. Nott , who has cleared away much fable and anachronism from the noble poet's biography , supposes that he was born in or about the year 1516 , and that he was ...
الصفحة 34
... born of kings in fight . * * Then these , I say , and thousands more , by tract of time decay , And , like to time , do quite consume , and fade from form to clay ; But my true heart and service vow'd shall last time out of mind , And ...
... born of kings in fight . * * Then these , I say , and thousands more , by tract of time decay , And , like to time , do quite consume , and fade from form to clay ; But my true heart and service vow'd shall last time out of mind , And ...
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طبعات أخرى - عرض جميع المقتطفات
عبارات ومصطلحات مألوفة
appear Aret arms beauty behold Ben Jonson blood Born breast breath bright Canterbury Tales Cham Chaucer CLEORA court DAVID LYNDSAY dear death delight Died doth Dryden earth English eyes fair fame fancy fate father fear fire flame genius give grace hand happy hast hath hear heart heaven Hengo honour Hudibras Jonson king lady language Layamon Leosthenes light live look Lord maid Massinissa Metis mind Mirror for Magistrates Muse nature ne'er never night numbers nymph o'er passion pleasure poem poet poetical poetry Pope praise prince queen quoth racter reign Saxon scene Scotland seem'd shade Shakspeare shine sight sing smile song sorrow soul speak spirit sweet sylphs taste tears tell thee thine things thou art thought Twas unto verse virtue wanton whilst William Davenant wind wretch youth
مقاطع مشهورة
الصفحة 126 - The dew shall weep thy fall to-night ; For thou must die. Sweet Rose, whose hue, angry and brave, Bids the rash gazer wipe his eye, Thy root is ever in its grave, And thou must die. Sweet Spring, full of sweet days and roses, A box where sweets compacted lie, My music shows ye have your closes, And all must die.
الصفحة 42 - And we will sit upon the rocks Seeing the shepherds feed their flocks, By shallow rivers, to whose falls Melodious birds sing madrigals. 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 259 - WHEN I consider how my light is spent, Ere half my days in this dark world and wide, And that one talent which is death to hide Lodged with me useless, though my soul more bent To serve therewith my Maker, and present My true account, lest he, returning, chide, "Doth God exact day-labour, light denied?
الصفحة 264 - Mortals, that would follow me, Love Virtue ; she alone is free. She can teach ye how to climb Higher than the sphery chime; Or, if Virtue feeble were, Heaven itself would stoop to her.
الصفحة 75 - Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks Within his bending sickle's compass come; Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
الصفحة 259 - Rescued from death by force, though pale and faint. Mine, as whom washed from spot of child-bed taint Purification in the old law did save, And such, as yet once more I trust to have Full sight of her in Heaven without restraint, Came vested all in white, pure as her mind. Her face was...
الصفحة 41 - Come, sleep ! O sleep, the certain knot of peace, The baiting-place of wit, the balm of woe, The poor man's wealth, the prisoner's release, Th...
الصفحة 306 - Pleased with the danger, when the waves went high, He sought the storms ; but, for a calm unfit, Would steer too nigh the sands to boast his wit.
الصفحة 306 - Of these the false Achitophel was first, A name to all succeeding ages cursed; For close designs and crooked counsels fit, Sagacious, bold, and turbulent of wit; Restless, unfix'd in principles and place, In power unpleased, impatient of disgrace; A fiery soul, which, working out, its way, Fretted the pigmy body to decay, And o'er-inform'd the tenement of clay.
الصفحة 156 - ASK ME No MORE ASK me no more where Jove bestows, When June is past, the fading rose; For in your beauty's orient deep These flowers, as in their causes, sleep. Ask me no more whither do stray The golden atoms of the day; For in pure love heaven did prepare Those powders to enrich your hair. Ask me no more whither doth haste The nightingale when May is past; For in your sweet dividing throat She winters and keeps warm her note. Ask me no more...