The Pembroke Booklets: First Series, Volym 1–3J.R. Tutin, 1905 |
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Sida 6
... sense derogatory to the genius of the maker of the poems themselves . Mary Sidney , whose name has come down to us inextricably intertwined with that of her illustrious and devoted brother , is represented by her two extant original ...
... sense derogatory to the genius of the maker of the poems themselves . Mary Sidney , whose name has come down to us inextricably intertwined with that of her illustrious and devoted brother , is represented by her two extant original ...
Sida 14
... if , from majesty of sacred lights , Oppressing mortal sense , my death proceed , Wracks triumphs be , which Love high set doth breed . ( Astrophel and Stella , XLII . ) " Those Morning Stars 99 SOUL'S joy ! bend not 14 Sir Philip Sidney.
... if , from majesty of sacred lights , Oppressing mortal sense , my death proceed , Wracks triumphs be , which Love high set doth breed . ( Astrophel and Stella , XLII . ) " Those Morning Stars 99 SOUL'S joy ! bend not 14 Sir Philip Sidney.
Sida 24
... senses guides ; He loves my heart for once it was his own ; I cherish his because in me it bides . His heart his wound received from my sight ; My heart was wounded with his wounded heart ; For as from me on him his hurt did light , So ...
... senses guides ; He loves my heart for once it was his own ; I cherish his because in me it bides . His heart his wound received from my sight ; My heart was wounded with his wounded heart ; For as from me on him his hurt did light , So ...
Sida 25
... sense sweet sleep some ease impart- Her sense , too weak to bear her spirit's might . And while , O sleep , thou closest up her sight , - Her sight , where Love did forge his fairest dart , -- O harbour all her parts in easeful plight ...
... sense sweet sleep some ease impart- Her sense , too weak to bear her spirit's might . And while , O sleep , thou closest up her sight , - Her sight , where Love did forge his fairest dart , -- O harbour all her parts in easeful plight ...
Sida 28
... Who makes a man live then glad when he dieth ? To you , to you , all song of praise is due : Only of you the flatterer never lieth . Who hath the voice which soul from senses sunders ? 28 Sir Philip Sidney MISCELLANEOUS VERSE To Stella.
... Who makes a man live then glad when he dieth ? To you , to you , all song of praise is due : Only of you the flatterer never lieth . Who hath the voice which soul from senses sunders ? 28 Sir Philip Sidney MISCELLANEOUS VERSE To Stella.
Vanliga ord och fraser
angels Arcadia Astræa Astrophel and Stella babe beams beauty BERTRAM DOBELL birds blessed blest bliss breast breath bright Britannia's Pastorals CALIFORNIA LIBRARY Corydon coupled joys maintain dear death delight deridan divine doth earth eternity eyes face fair fairest fancy farewell fear flock flowers forbear to weep George Wither glory grace grief happy hast hath heart heaven heavenly honour Hymen J. R. Tutin kiss leave light live long their coupled look Love's Mary Sidney merry mind mourn Muse Nature's never Nicholas Breton night nymphs pain Passion Phyllida Phyllis pleasure Poems poets poor praise rich sense shepherd shine sight Sir Philip Sidney sleep song sorrow soul do sing spring stars streams sweet baby sweetest tears thee THENOT thine things Thomas Traherne Thomas Vaughan thought Traherne tree true twas UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA unto verse wounds
Populära avsnitt
Sida 36 - Cause I see a woman kind; Or a well disposed nature Joined with a lovely feature? Be she meeker, kinder, than Turtle-dove or pelican, If she be not so to me, What care I how kind she be?
Sida 27 - LEAVE me, O Love, which reachest but to dust; And thou, my mind, aspire to higher things ; Grow rich in that which never taketh rust: Whatever fades, but fading pleasure brings. Draw in thy beams, and humble all thy might To that sweet yoke where lasting freedoms be ; Which breaks the clouds, and opens forth the light That doth both shine and give us sight to see.
Sida 14 - Town-folks my strength; a daintier judge applies His praise to sleight which from good use doth rise; Some lucky wits impute it but to chance...
Sida 13 - Of those fierce darts, Despair at me doth throw; 0 make in me those civil wars to cease : 1 will good tribute pay, if thou do so. Take thou of me smooth pillows, sweetest bed ; A chamber, deaf to noise, and blind to light; A rosy garland, and a weary head. And if these things, as being thine by right, Move not thy heavy grace, thou shalt in me Livelier than elsewhere Stella's image see.
Sida 63 - To hear him speak, and sweetly smile, You were in Paradise the while. A sweet attractive kind of grace ,* A full assurance given by looks ; Continual comfort in a face. The lineaments of Gospel bookt — I trow that count'nance cannot lye, Whose thoughts are legible in the eye.
Sida 31 - No more, my dear, no more these counsels try; 0 give my passions leave to run their race; Let Fortune lay on me her worst disgrace; Let folk o'ercharged with brain against me cry; Let clouds bedim my face, break in mine eye; Let me no steps, but of lost labour, trace; Let all the earth with scorn recount my case— But do not will me from my love to fly.
Sida 53 - Before I understood this place Appointed for my second race, Or taught my soul to fancy aught But a white, celestial thought; When yet I had not walked above A mile or two from my first love, And looking back — at that short space — Could see a glimpse of his bright face...
Sida 21 - Highway, since you my chief Parnassus be; And that my Muse, to some ears not unsweet, Tempers her words to trampling horses
Sida 22 - Thine eyes my pride, thy lips mine history: If thou praise not, all other praise is shame. Nor so ambitious am I as to frame A nest for my young praise in laurel tree : In truth I swear, I wish not there should be Graved in my epitaph a poet's name. Ne, if I would, could I just title make, That any laud thereof to me should grow, Without my plumes from others...
Sida 55 - Dear, harmless age! the short, swift span, Where weeping virtue parts with man; Where love without lust dwells, and bends What way we please, without self-ends. An age of mysteries! which he Must live twice, that would Gods face see; Which Angels guard, and with it play, Angels! which foul men drive away.