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" 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... "
First period. Second period. From Spenser to Dryden - الصفحة 275
بواسطة George Gilfillan - 1860
عرض كامل - لمحة عن هذا الكتاب

Southbooke

Sutton Selwyn Scott - 1880 - عدد الصفحات: 259
...eye, Fair as a star, when only one Is shining in the sky." Another, I think, was from old Herbert : "Ask me no more whither doth haste The nightingale,...dividing throat She winters, and keeps warm her note." And still another was from Prentice. This last suited me exactly. It was as gushing, as I, or any youthful...

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

Robert Chambers - 1880
...golden atoms of the day ; For in pure love heaven did prepare Those powders to enrich your hair. Song. Ask me no more whither doth haste The nightingale,...sweet dividing throat She winters, and keeps warm her uots. Ask me no more if east or west The Phcenix builds her spicy uest ; For unto you at last she flies....

Poetic treasures: or, Passages from the poets

Passages, John Allen Giles - 1881 - عدد الصفحات: 644
...golden atoms of the day ; For, in pure love, heaven did prepare These powders to enrich your hair. Ask me no more whither doth haste The nightingale,...dead of night ; For in your eyes they sit and there Fised become, as in their sphere. Ask me no more if east or west The phoenix builds her spicy nest...

The Fireside Encyclopaedia of Poetry: Comprising the Best Poems of the Most ...

Henry Troth Coates - 1881 - عدد الصفحات: 1002
...golden atoms of the day ; For, in pure love, heaven did prepare Those powders to enrich your hair. wildest downward fall in dead of night; For in your eyes they sit, and there Fixed become, as in their sphere....

Harper's Cyclopædia of British and American Poetry

Epes Sargent - 1881 - عدد الصفحات: 958
...golden atoms of the day ; For, in pure love, heaven did prepare Those powders to enrich your hair. A»k " There was a ship," quoth he. "Hold off! unhand me, gray-beard loon!" Ef yonr sweet dividing throat She winters, and keeps warm her note. Ask me no more, where those stars...

Harper's Cyclopaedia of British and American Poetry

Epes Sargent - 1882 - عدد الصفحات: 958
...golden atoms of the day ; For, in puro love, heaven did prepare Those powders to enrich your hair. n, — and sunshine arose on tho way To the homo of...me back. I flew to tho pleasant fields traversed downward fall in dead of night; For, in your eyes tbcy sit, aud there Fixed become, as in their sphere....

The Cambridge Book of Poetry and Song

Charlotte Fiske Bates - 1882 - عدد الصفحات: 882
...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...throat She winters and keeps warm her note. Ask me nomore where those stars light That downwards fall in dead of night, For in your eyes they sit, and...

The Household Book of Poetry

Charles Anderson Dana - 1882 - عدد الصفحات: 862
...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...sweet, dividing throat She winters, and keeps warm her not*. 256 257 Ask me no more where those stars light That downwards fall in dead of night ; For in...

Henry W. Longfellow: Biography, Anecdote, Letters, Criticism

William Sloane Kennedy - 1882 - عدد الصفحات: 368
...when he said, — ' Ask me no more where those stars lighte That downwards fall in dead of nighte, For in your eyes they sit, and there Fixed become as in their sphere.' " THE LONDON TIMES. The London Times of March 25, 1882, contained a long editorial on Longfellow, from...

The English Poets: Ben Jonson to Dryden

Thomas Humphry Ward - 1883
...pure love, heaven did prepare Those powders to enrich your hair. Ask me no more whither doth Jiaste The nightingale when May is past, For in your sweet...in their sphere. Ask me no more if east or west The Phcenix builds her spicy nest, For unto you at last she flies, And in your fragrant bosom dies. A PRAYER...




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