Three centuries of English poetry: selections from Chaucer to Herrick, with intr. and notes by R.O. MassonRosaline Orme Masson Macmillan and Company, 1876 - 391 sidor |
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Sida 13
... gold it was ... I have no wit that can suffice To comprehende her beauty ; But this much dare I sayn , that she Was ruddy , fresh , and lovely hued , And every day her beauty newed . And nigh her face was alder best ; 2 For , certes ...
... gold it was ... I have no wit that can suffice To comprehende her beauty ; But this much dare I sayn , that she Was ruddy , fresh , and lovely hued , And every day her beauty newed . And nigh her face was alder best ; 2 For , certes ...
Sida 27
... gold so high Had whirled up the starry sky aloft , And in the Bull was entered certainly ; When showers sweet of rain descended soft , Causing the ground feole1 times and oft Up for to give many a wholesome air ; And every plainè was y ...
... gold so high Had whirled up the starry sky aloft , And in the Bull was entered certainly ; When showers sweet of rain descended soft , Causing the ground feole1 times and oft Up for to give many a wholesome air ; And every plainè was y ...
Sida 29
... gold - finch leaping prettily From bough to bough ; and as him list he eat Here and there of buds and flowers sweet . And to the herber sidè was joining This fairè tree of which I have you told ; And at the last the bird began to sing ...
... gold - finch leaping prettily From bough to bough ; and as him list he eat Here and there of buds and flowers sweet . And to the herber sidè was joining This fairè tree of which I have you told ; And at the last the bird began to sing ...
Sida 31
... gold bespread on every side , And precious stones the stonework for to hide . No sapphire in Ind , no ruby rich of price , There lacked then , nor emerald so green , Balais , turkis , ne thing to my device , That may the castle maken ...
... gold bespread on every side , And precious stones the stonework for to hide . No sapphire in Ind , no ruby rich of price , There lacked then , nor emerald so green , Balais , turkis , ne thing to my device , That may the castle maken ...
Sida 32
... gold , I guess , And other silk of easier avail.1 Under the cloth of their estate , sans fail , The King and Queen there sat , as I beheld : It passed joy of Elysie the field . . And , as I stood perceiving her apart , And eke the ...
... gold , I guess , And other silk of easier avail.1 Under the cloth of their estate , sans fail , The King and Queen there sat , as I beheld : It passed joy of Elysie the field . . And , as I stood perceiving her apart , And eke the ...
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Three centuries of English poetry: selections from Chaucer to Herrick, with ... Rosaline Orme Masson Obegränsad förhandsgranskning - 1876 |
Three Centuries of English Poetry: Being Selections from Chaucer to Herrick Obegränsad förhandsgranskning - 1886 |
Three Centuries of English Poetry: Being Selections from Chaucer to Herrick Rosaline Orme Masson Obegränsad förhandsgranskning - 1876 |
Vanliga ord och fraser
Æneid anon beast beauty Ben Jonson bird birdès Book Cambridge Canterbury Tales Chaucer cloth College Confessio Amantis Court Crown 8vo dead death delight doth Edition ELEMENTARY Elizabethan England England's Helicon English English poetry Extra fcap eyes Faerie Queene fair fcap fear Fellow flowers frae Gavin Douglas Giles Fletcher gold golden grace green hast hath head hear heart heaven heavenly Henry Henry VIII honour King lady literary literature live London Lord merry micht mind Muses never night noble nocht nought Owens College pain pastoral Phoebus pity poem poet poetry praise Queen quoth reign richt Satires sayn School Scotland Scottish shepherd sing song Sonnets sorrow soul Spenser sweet tears tell thee thing thou thought TREATISE Trouvères unto verse weell Whilk wight wist
Populära avsnitt
Sida 331 - Come away, come away, death, And in sad cypress let me be laid ; Fly away, fly away, breath ; I am slain by a fair cruel maid. My shroud of white, stuck all with yew, O, prepare it ! My part of death, no one so true Did share it.
Sida 387 - Gather ye rosebuds while ye may, Old time is still a-flying, And this same flower that smiles to-day, Tomorrow will be dying.
Sida 356 - Yet must I not give Nature all; thy Art My gentle Shakespeare, must enjoy a part. For though the poet's matter nature be, His art doth give the fashion; and, that he Who casts to write a living line, must sweat, (Such as thine are) and strike the second heat Upon the Muses...
Sida 271 - Give me my scallop-shell of quiet, My staff of faith to walk upon. My scrip of joy, immortal diet, My bottle of salvation, My gown of glory, hope's true gage; And thus I'll take my pilgrimage.
Sida 329 - When shepherds pipe on oaten straws, And merry larks are ploughmen's clocks, When turtles tread, and rooks, and daws, And maidens bleach their summer smocks, The cuckoo then, on every tree, Mocks married men, for thus sings he, Cuckoo ; Cuckoo, cuckoo...
Sida 327 - Then hate me when thou wilt; if ever, now; Now, while the world is bent my deeds to cross, Join with the spite of fortune...
Sida 274 - EVEN such is time, that takes in trust Our youth, our joys, our all we have, And pays us but with earth and dust; Who, in the dark and silent grave, When we have wandered all our ways, Shuts up the story of our days; But from this earth, this grave, this dust, My God shall raise me up, I trust!
Sida 333 - Fear no more the heat o' the sun Nor the furious winter's rages; Thou thy worldly task hast done, Home art gone, and ta'en thy wages; Golden lads and girls all must, As chimney-sweepers, come to dust. Fear no more the frown o...
Sida 324 - Time's glory is to calm contending kings, To unmask falsehood, and bring truth to light, To stamp the seal of time in aged things, To wake the morn, and sentinel the night, To wrong the wronger till he render right ; To ruinate proud buildings with thy hours, And smear with dust their glittering golden towers : 1 To fill with worm-holes stately monuments, To feed oblivion with decay of things, To blot old books, and alter their contents, To pluck the quills from ancient ravens...
Sida 360 - Weep with me, all you that read This little story : And know, for whom a tear you shed Death's self is sorry. 'Twas a child that so did thrive In grace and feature, As heaven and nature seemed to strive Which owned the creature.