English Masterpieces, Volym 1P. Owen, 1957 |
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Sida 117
... telle How that we baren us that ilke night , Whan we were in that hostelrye alight . And after wol I telle of our viage , And al the remenaunt of our pilgrimage . But first I pray yow , of your curteisye , That ye n'arette 51 it nat my ...
... telle How that we baren us that ilke night , Whan we were in that hostelrye alight . And after wol I telle of our viage , And al the remenaunt of our pilgrimage . But first I pray yow , of your curteisye , That ye n'arette 51 it nat my ...
Sida 120
... telle the firste tale . As ever mote I drinke wyn or ale , Who - so be rebel to my jugement 69 Shal paye for al that by the weye is spent . Now draweth cut , er that we ferrer twinne ; He which that hath the shortest shal biginne ...
... telle the firste tale . As ever mote I drinke wyn or ale , Who - so be rebel to my jugement 69 Shal paye for al that by the weye is spent . Now draweth cut , er that we ferrer twinne ; He which that hath the shortest shal biginne ...
Sida 148
... telle a tale . Now , have I dronke a draughte of corny ale , By god , I hope I shall yow telle a thing That shal , by resoun , been at your lyking . For , though myself be a ful vicious man , A moral tale yet I yow telle can , Which I ...
... telle a tale . Now , have I dronke a draughte of corny ale , By god , I hope I shall yow telle a thing That shal , by resoun , been at your lyking . For , though myself be a ful vicious man , A moral tale yet I yow telle can , Which I ...
Innehåll
1425 | 3 |
MIDDLE ENGLISH LITERATURE | 58 |
GEOFFREY CHAUCER | 97 |
Upphovsrätt | |
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Vanliga ord och fraser
1st Shep 2nd Shep 3rd Shep beauty Ben Jonson Beowulf called Chaucer court dead dear death doth earth Ecgtheow English eyes fair father fear frier give glory gold grace green Grendel hand hath head Healfdene heard heart Heaven Hell Heorot hero honor Hrothgar Hygelac Iliad John Johnson Jutes king King Arthur knight lady leave live look Lord Lord Randal Majesty mind morning mother nature never noble o'er Ovid poem poet poetry praise prince Queen quoth Robin Hood round Scyldings shal sing Sir Bedivere Sir Gawain Sir Lucan Sir Mordred song soon soul sweet sword tell thee ther thine things thou hast thought took tree twa sisters unto verse whan wife wolde words