A Poetry-book of Elder Poets: Consisting of Songs & Sonnets, Odes & Lyrics, Selected and Arranged, with Notes, from the Works of the Elder English Poets, Dating from the Beginning of the Fourteenth Century to the Middle of the Eighteenth CenturyB. Tauchnitz, 1878 - 298 עמודים |
מתוך הספר
תוצאות 1-5 מתוך 48
עמוד 9
... doth not sting , the pretty birds do sing , Cuckoo , jug - jug , pu - we , to - witta - woo ! The palm and may make country houses gay , Lambs frisk and play , the shepherds pipe all day , And we hear aye birds tune this merry lay ...
... doth not sting , the pretty birds do sing , Cuckoo , jug - jug , pu - we , to - witta - woo ! The palm and may make country houses gay , Lambs frisk and play , the shepherds pipe all day , And we hear aye birds tune this merry lay ...
עמוד 14
... 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 , where those stars light , That downwards fall in dead of night ; For , in your eyes they sit ...
... 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 , where those stars light , That downwards fall in dead of night ; For , in your eyes they sit ...
עמוד 16
... doth rise , Doth ask a drink divine : But might I of Jove's nectar sup , I would not change for thine . 2 . 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 ...
... doth rise , Doth ask a drink divine : But might I of Jove's nectar sup , I would not change for thine . 2 . 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 ...
עמוד 18
... doth take away , Death's second self , that seals up all in rest . In me thou seest the glowing of such fire , That on the ashes of his youth doth lie As the deathbed whereon it must expire , Consumed with that which it was nourish'd by ...
... doth take away , Death's second self , that seals up all in rest . In me thou seest the glowing of such fire , That on the ashes of his youth doth lie As the deathbed whereon it must expire , Consumed with that which it was nourish'd by ...
עמוד 19
... doth beauty , like a dial hand , Steal from his figure , and no pace perceived ; So your sweet hue , which methinks still doth stand , Hath motion , and mine eye may be deceived : For fear of which , hear this , thou age unbred , - Ere ...
... doth beauty , like a dial hand , Steal from his figure , and no pace perceived ; So your sweet hue , which methinks still doth stand , Hath motion , and mine eye may be deceived : For fear of which , hear this , thou age unbred , - Ere ...
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מהדורות אחרות - הצג הכל
מונחים וביטויים נפוצים
ALEXANDER SELKIRK AULD ROBIN GRAY BATTLE OF AGINCOURT Beaumont beauty birds Blake breath bright CHRIST'S NATIVITY crown dear death doth Dunfermline town earth Edward Elder Poets ELEGY ELIZABETH OF BOHEMIA Eurydice eyes fair fairy fear Fletcher flower golden good-morrow grave green grief grove hand hast hath hear heart heaven Helen honour INVERMAY King Kirconnell kiss ladies light Line live Lord LOVE'S LOVER Lycidas lyre Milton moon MORNING OF CHRIST'S Mother Muse Nanny ne'er never night nightingale Noroway notes numbers nymph o'er Osiris pain PATRICK SPENCE Phillida flouts Philomela pleasure poem praise Procne rose sad cypress Sally shade Shakespeare shepherds shine sing SIR PATRICK SPENCE sleep smiling SONG sorrow soul sound spring stream swain sweet tears tell Tereus Thammuz thee things tree unto Verse voice wanton weep wilt thou winds wings Yarrow youth
קטעים בולטים
עמוד 39 - But, swoln with wind and the rank mist they draw, Rot inwardly, and foul contagion spread; Besides what the grim wolf with privy paw Daily devours apace, and nothing said. But that two-handed engine at the door Stands ready to smite once, and smite no more.
עמוד 85 - Pelops' line, Or the tale of Troy divine ; Or what (though rare) of later age Ennobled hath the buskin'd stage. But O, sad virgin, that thy power Might raise Musaeus from his bower ? Or bid the soul of Orpheus sing Such notes as, warbled to the string, Drew iron tears down Pluto's cheek, And made Hell grant what love did seek.
עמוד 19 - To me, fair friend, you never can be old, For as you were when first your eye I eyed, Such seems your beauty still. Three winters cold Have from the forests shook three summers...
עמוד 73 - Tu-who, a merry note, While greasy Joan doth keel the pot. When all aloud the wind doth blow And coughing drowns the parson's saw And birds sit brooding in the snow And Marian's nose looks red and raw, When roasted...
עמוד 139 - Heigh, ho ! sing, heigh, ho ! unto the green holly : Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly Then, heigh, ho, the holly ! This life is most jolly. 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.
עמוד 117 - When Love with unconfine'd wings Hovers within my Gates ; And my divine Althea brings To whisper at the Grates : When I lie tangled in her hair, And fetter'd to her eye ; The Birds, that wanton in the Air, Know no such Liberty.
עמוד 272 - tis said) Before was never made But when of old the Sons of Morning sung, While the Creator great His constellations set, And the well-balanced world on hinges hung ; And cast the dark foundations deep, And bid the weltering waves their oozy channel keep.
עמוד 37 - When by the rout that made the hideous roar His gory visage down the stream was sent, Down the swift Hebrus to the Lesbian shore?
עמוד 274 - The lonely mountains o'er And the resounding shore A voice of weeping heard, and loud lament ; From haunted spring and dale Edged with poplar pale The parting Genius is with sighing sent ; With flower-inwoven tresses torn The Nymphs in twilight shade of tangled thickets mourn.
עמוד 211 - There at the foot of yonder nodding beech That wreathes its old fantastic roots so high. His listless length at noontide would he stretch, And pore upon the brook that babbles by. " Hard by yon wood, now smiling as in scorn, Muttering his wayward fancies he would rove ; Now drooping, woeful-wan, like one forlorn, Or crazed with care, or cross'd in hopeless love.