Ros rosarum ex horto poetarum: Dew of the ever-living rose gathered from the poets' gardens of many landsE. Stock, 1885 - 274 sidor |
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Sida xii
... perfection , the changing seasons of the world can never mar ; and whose fragrance lasts , immortal as the soul that with a breath first made it bloom . Less scarce are those Roses , whose outer leaves , and xii Epistle to the Reader .
... perfection , the changing seasons of the world can never mar ; and whose fragrance lasts , immortal as the soul that with a breath first made it bloom . Less scarce are those Roses , whose outer leaves , and xii Epistle to the Reader .
Sida xvii
... soul , there is a countrie afar beyond the stars . " Then the Rose has had her age of chivalry . She was once also , and indeed . still is the Pride of Heraldry . In Venice the shield of Mocenigo was glorious with two crimson Roses ...
... soul , there is a countrie afar beyond the stars . " Then the Rose has had her age of chivalry . She was once also , and indeed . still is the Pride of Heraldry . In Venice the shield of Mocenigo was glorious with two crimson Roses ...
Sida xxii
... soul of the Rose is dead ! Yet there remain to us , still the same , beautiful and sweet as ever , unmoved and undecayed through the storms of centuries -Roses of one peculiar kind . Time can- not tarnish their eternal bloom , nor bend ...
... soul of the Rose is dead ! Yet there remain to us , still the same , beautiful and sweet as ever , unmoved and undecayed through the storms of centuries -Roses of one peculiar kind . Time can- not tarnish their eternal bloom , nor bend ...
Sida 47
... my breast , and my soul fainted away : They let my beautiful golden dove Fly away , and my heart was wounded . ( Armenian Popular Songs - Venice , 1867. ) OR tí el silencio de la selva umbrosa , Por ling ingarum . 47.
... my breast , and my soul fainted away : They let my beautiful golden dove Fly away , and my heart was wounded . ( Armenian Popular Songs - Venice , 1867. ) OR tí el silencio de la selva umbrosa , Por ling ingarum . 47.
Sida 51
... soul . Translation . MADRIGAL . BA cogiendo flores Y guardando en la falda , Mi ninfa , para hacer una guirnalda ; Mas primero las toca A los Rosados labios de su boca , Y les da de su aliento los olores ; Y estaba , por su bien , entre ...
... soul . Translation . MADRIGAL . BA cogiendo flores Y guardando en la falda , Mi ninfa , para hacer una guirnalda ; Mas primero las toca A los Rosados labios de su boca , Y les da de su aliento los olores ; Y estaba , por su bien , entre ...
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Ros Rosarum Ex Horto Poetarum: Dew of the Everliving Rose, Gathered from the ... Eleanor Vere Boyle Obegränsad förhandsgranskning - 1885 |
Vanliga ord och fraser
Anacreon Andrew Marvell Barnabe Barnes beauty bloom blossom blushing Rose bowers breast breath bright Century cheek colour crimson crown damask Rose dead delight doth earth fade fair fairest fleur flores flowers fragrance Francisco de Rioja fresh garden garland Gerald Massey glow golden grace green grows hast hath heart Henry Vaughan Herrick hour hyacinth J. A. Symonds leaf leaves Lillies lily lips Love's lovers maid Meleager morning never nightingale o'er odours pale perfume petals Philip Bourke Marston Pierre de Ronsard pluck purple Queen red Rose repose Rosa Rose est Rose Rose Rose-tree Rosebud Röslein Rosy Sâdi Samuel Daniel scent Shakespeare shower sighing singing smell snow song Sonnet soul spring summer sweet Rose tears Tennyson thee thine thorn thou tomb Translation tree vale violet virgin white Rose William Drummond William Habington wind wine wither καὶ ῥόδον
Populära avsnitt
Sida 149 - Go, lovely Rose! Tell her, that wastes her time and me, That now she knows, When I resemble her to thee, How sweet and fair she seems to be. Tell her that's young And shuns to have her graces spied, That hadst thou sprung In deserts, where no men abide, Thou must have uncommended died.
Sida 194 - 11 not leave thee, thou lone one ! To pine on the stem ; Since the lovely are sleeping, Go, sleep thou with them ; Thus kindly I scatter Thy leaves o'er the bed, Where thy mates of the garden Lie scentless and dead.
Sida 127 - Saturn laugh'd and leap'd with him. Yet nor the lays of birds nor the sweet smell Of different flowers in odour and in hue Could make me any summer's story tell, Or from their proud lap pluck them where they grew ; Nor did I wonder at the lily's white, Nor praise the deep vermilion in the rose : They were but sweet, but figures of delight, Drawn after you, you pattern of all those. Yet seem'd it winter still, and, you away, As with your shadow I with these did play.
Sida 114 - The little Dazie, that at evening closes, The virgin Lillie, and the Primrose trew, With store of vermeil Roses, To decke their Bridegromes posies Against the Brydale day, which was not long: Sweete Themmes!
Sida 158 - SEE with what simplicity This nymph begins her golden days! In the green grass she loves to lie, And there with her fair aspect tames The wilder flowers, and gives them names: But only with the roses plays; And them does tell What colour best becomes them, and what smell.
Sida 178 - The Sick Rose O rose, thou art sick; The invisible worm That flies in the night, In the howling storm, Has found out thy bed Of crimson joy, And his dark secret love Does thy life destroy.
Sida 201 - Gul in her bloom ; Where the citron and olive are fairest of fruit, And the voice of the nightingale never is mute ; Where the tints of the earth, and the hues of the, sky, In colour though varied, in beauty may vie...
Sida 67 - Deh mira - egli cantò - spuntar la rosa dal verde suo modesta e verginella, che mezzo aperta ancora e mezzo ascosa, quanto si mostra men, tanto è più bella. Ecco poi nudo il sen già baldanzosa dispiega; ecco poi langue e non par quella, quella non par che desiata inanti fu da mille donzelle e mille amanti.
Sida 185 - To pull the thorn thy brow to braid, And press the rue for wine ! A lightsome eye, a soldier's mien, A feather of the blue, A doublet of the Lincoln green. — No more of me you knew, My love ! No more of me you knew. ' This morn is merry June, I trow, The rose is budding fain ; But she shall bloom in winter snow Ere we two meet again.' He turned his charger as he spake Upon the river shore, He gave his bridle-reins a shake, Said, ' Adieu for evermore, My love ! And adieu for evermore.
Sida 130 - You violets that first appear, By your pure purple mantles known Like the proud virgins of the year, As if the spring were all your own; What are you when the rose is blown ? So, when my mistress shall be seen In form and beauty of her mind, By virtue first, then choice, a Queen, Tell me, if she were not design'd Th' eclipse and glory of her kind.