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" Times go by turns, and chances change by course, From foul to fair, from better hap to worse. The sea of Fortune doth not ever flow, She draws her favours to the lowest ebb; Her tides have equal times to come and go, Her loom doth weave the fine and coarsest... "
First period. Second period. From Spenser to Dryden - الصفحة 122
بواسطة George Gilfillan - 1860
عرض كامل - لمحة عن هذا الكتاب

Three Recruits and the Girls They Left Behind Them: A Novel

Joseph Hatton - 1880
...Like so many sea-gods, charge up to it ? BEAUMONT. CHAPTER I. FATHER AND SON AND THE THREE RECRUITS. The sea of fortune doth not ever flow ; She draws...but runneth to an end ; No hap so hard but may in time amend. SOUTHWELL. rilHE Vicar of Chesterfield, the Reverend -*- Normanby Wingfield, was looked...

The English Poets, المجلد 1

Thomas H. Ward - 1880
...worse. The sea of Fortune doth not ever flow, She draws her favours to the lowest ebb ; Her time hath equal times to come and go, Her loom doth weave the...fine amend. Not always fall of leaf nor ever spring, No endless night yet not eternal day ; The saddest birds a season find to sing, The roughest storm...

Chambers's Cyclopaedia of English Literature: A History ..., المجلدات 1-2

Robert Chambers - 1880
...shower ; Time goes by turns, and chances change by course From foul to fair, from better hap to worse. The sea of Fortune doth not ever flow ; She draws...lowest ebb ; Her tides have equal times to come and go ; /j Her loom doth weave the fine and coarsest web ; // No joy so great but runneth to an end, No hap...

Chaucer to Donne

Thomas Humphry Ward - 1880
...shower ; Times go by turns and chances change by course, From foul to fair, from better hap to worse. The sea of Fortune doth not ever flow, She draws her favours to the lowest ebb ; Her time hath equal times to come and go, Her loom doth weave the fine and coarsest web ; No joy so great...

The English Poets: Chaucer to Donne

Thomas Humphry Ward - 1880
...shower ; Times go by turns and chances change by course, From foul to fair, from better hap to worse. The sea of Fortune doth not ever flow, She draws her favours to the lowest ebb ; Her time hath equal times to come and go, Her loom doth weave the fine and coarsest web ; No joy so great...

The English poets, selections, ed. by T.H. Ward. Chaucer to Donne

Thomas Humphry Ward - 1880
...shower ; Times go by turns and chances change by course, From foul to fair, from better hap to worse. The sea of Fortune doth not ever flow, She draws her favours to the lowest ebb ; Her time hath equal times to come and go, Her loom doth weave the fine and coarsest web ; No joy so great...

Routledge's wedding-day book [selections from Engl. poetry] by C.A.M. Burdett

C. A. M. Burdett - 1880 - عدد الصفحات: 288
...Gospel books — I trow that countenance cannot lye Whose thoughts are legible in the eye. Spenser. No joy so great but runneth to an end, No hap so hard but may in time amend. Robert Southwell. ~ July 20. О ! married love ! thy bard shall own, Where two congenial...

Dr. Howell's Family ...

Hannah Bradbury Goodwin - 1881 - عدد الصفحات: 361
...WASHINGTON HEIGHTSCHAPTER GOING ABROAD. * ll1e sea of Fortune doth not ever flow; She draws her favors to the lowest ebb : Her tides have equal times to...; Her loom doth weave the fine and coarsest web." SOUTHWELL. "MARY, I have news from your investments." Dr. Howell spoke with a seriousness that roused...

Poetic treasures: or, Passages from the poets

Passages, John Allen Giles - 1881 - عدد الصفحات: 644
...shower ; Time goes by turns, and chances change by course .From foul to fair, from better hap to worse. The sea of fortune doth not ever flow ; She draws...favours to the lowest ebb ; , -; > Her tides have equal time to come and go ; Her loom doth weave the fine and coarsest well : No joy so great but runneth...

Harper's Cyclopaedia of British and American Poetry

Epes Sargent - 1882 - عدد الصفحات: 958
...Fortuno doth not ever flow, Sbe draws her favors to the lowest ebb; Her time hath equal times to como aud prime of youth is but a frost of cares ; My feast of joy is but a dish of pain ; My crop o Nor hap so bard but may in timo amend. Not always full of leaf nor ever spring, No endless night yet...




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