Specimens of the Early English Poets, المجلد 1Edwards, 1790 - 323 من الصفحات |
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الصفحة 136
... , I faw that lovely flower . " Yet with my flower thou didst not meet , " Nor news of her doft bring , " Yet is my Daffodil more fweet " Than that by yonder spring . " I faw a fhepherd that doth keep In yonder field 136.
... , I faw that lovely flower . " Yet with my flower thou didst not meet , " Nor news of her doft bring , " Yet is my Daffodil more fweet " Than that by yonder spring . " I faw a fhepherd that doth keep In yonder field 136.
الصفحة 138
... meet at any time again , Be it not feen in either of our brows That we one jot of former love retain . Now at the last gasp of love's latest breath , When his pulfe failing , paffion speechless lies , When faith is kneeling by his bed ...
... meet at any time again , Be it not feen in either of our brows That we one jot of former love retain . Now at the last gasp of love's latest breath , When his pulfe failing , paffion speechless lies , When faith is kneeling by his bed ...
الصفحة 140
... , And fwear No where Lives a woman true and fair . If thou find'ft one , let me know , Such a pilgrimage were sweet ; Yet do not , I would not go , Tho ' at next door we might meet . Though the were true when you met her , And 140.
... , And fwear No where Lives a woman true and fair . If thou find'ft one , let me know , Such a pilgrimage were sweet ; Yet do not , I would not go , Tho ' at next door we might meet . Though the were true when you met her , And 140.
الصفحة 144
... too flow . Though mountains meet not , lovers may , What other lovers do did they ; The God of Love fat on a tree , And laugh'd that pleasant fight to see . SIR JOHN BEAUMONT , Brother of Francis Beaumont , and 144 DAVISON .
... too flow . Though mountains meet not , lovers may , What other lovers do did they ; The God of Love fat on a tree , And laugh'd that pleasant fight to see . SIR JOHN BEAUMONT , Brother of Francis Beaumont , and 144 DAVISON .
الصفحة 176
... meet ( Though fome of them , in greater state , Might court my love with plate ) The beauties of the Cheape , and wives of Lombard ftreet . But think upon Some other pleasures , these to me are none . Why do I prate Of women , that are ...
... meet ( Though fome of them , in greater state , Might court my love with plate ) The beauties of the Cheape , and wives of Lombard ftreet . But think upon Some other pleasures , these to me are none . Why do I prate Of women , that are ...
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عبارات ومصطلحات مألوفة
againſt beauty beauty's beſt birds bluſh breaſt breath cauſe cheek Corydon Cupid dear defire delight deſpair doft doth eyes fair fcorn fear feek feem fenfes ferve fhall fhew fighs fince fing firſt flame fleep flowers fmile fnow fome fong foon forrow foul freſh ftars ftill ftreams fuch fweet grace grief Harpalus hath heart heav'n himſelf joys kifs kiſs laſt live loft loſe lov'd love's lovers lullaby maid melancholy Methinks miſtreſs moft moſt muft muſt myſelf ne'er night nought nymph paffion paſs Phillida Phillis pleaſant pleaſe pleaſure pofies praiſe preſent reaſon reft rofe roſe ſay ſee ſeems ſhade ſhall ſhape ſhe ſhepherd ſhould ſhow ſkies ſmile SONG SONNET ſpend ſpent ſpread ſpring ſtate ſtay ſtill ſweet tears Tell tereu thee themſelves theſe thine thofe thoſe thou thouſand uſe wanton Whilft whofe Whoſe wind wiſh youth
مقاطع مشهورة
الصفحة 114 - 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. I sent thee late a rosy wreath, Not so much honouring thee As giving it a hope that there It could not withered be; But thou thereon didst only breathe And sent'st it back to me; Since when it grows, and smells, I swear, Not of itself but thee!
الصفحة 262 - And ever, against eating cares, Lap me in soft Lydian airs, Married to immortal verse, Such as the meeting soul may pierce, In notes with many a winding bout Of linked sweetness long drawn out With wanton heed and giddy cunning, The melting voice through mazes running, Untwisting all the chains that tie The hidden soul of harmony ; That Orpheus...
الصفحة 262 - Where throngs of knights and barons bold, In weeds of peace, high triumphs hold, With store of ladies, whose bright eyes Rain influence, and judge the prize Of wit or arms, while both contend To win her grace whom all commend.
الصفحة 189 - Stone walls do not a prison make, Nor iron bars a cage; Minds innocent and quiet take That for an hermitage; If I have freedom in my love And in my soul am free, Angels alone, that soar above, Enjoy such liberty.
الصفحة 31 - Tell me where is fancy bred, Or in the heart or in the head? How begot, how nourished! Reply, reply. It is engendered in the eyes. With gazing fed ; and fancy dies In the cradle where it lies. Let us all ring fancy's knell : I'll begin it, — Ding, dong, bell.
الصفحة 256 - And when the Sun begins to fling His flaring beams, me, Goddess, bring To arched walks of twilight groves, And shadows brown that Sylvan loves Of Pine, or monumental Oak, Where the rude Axe with heaved stroke, Was never heard the Nymphs to daunt, Or fright them from their hallow'd haunt.
الصفحة 138 - Since there's no help, come, let us kiss and part! Nay, I have done. You get no more of me! And I am glad, yea, glad with all my heart, That thus so cleanly I myself can free. Shake hands for ever! Cancel all our vows! And when we meet at any time again, Be it not seen in either of our brows That we one jot of former love retain.
الصفحة 30 - When icicles hang by the wall And Dick the shepherd blows his nail And Tom bears logs into the hall And milk comes frozen home in pail, When blood is nipp'd and ways be foul, Then nightly sings the staring owl, Tu-whit ; Tu-who, a merry note, While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.
الصفحة 257 - With antique pillars massy proof, And storied windows richly dight, Casting a dim religious light. There let the pealing organ blow, To the full-voiced quire below, In service high and anthems clear, As may with sweetness, through mine ear, Dissolve me into ecstasies, And bring all Heaven before mine eyes.
الصفحة 257 - As may with sweetness, through mine ear, Dissolve me into ecstasies, And bring all Heaven before mine eyes. And may at last my weary age Find out the peaceful hermitage, The hairy gown and mossy cell, Where I may sit and rightly spell Of every star that heaven doth shew, And every herb that sips the dew, Till old experience do attain To something like prophetic strain.