The English Poets, Volym 2Thomas Humphry Ward Macmillan, 1880 |
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... Sleep ( from the Same ) Song ( from The Queen of Corinth ) Song ( from The Nice Valour ) THOMAS DEKKER ( 1575 ? 1640 ? ) Content ( from Patient Grissil ) Lullaby ( from the Same ) · The Praise of Fortune ( from Old Fortunatus ) Rustic ...
... Sleep ( from the Same ) Song ( from The Queen of Corinth ) Song ( from The Nice Valour ) THOMAS DEKKER ( 1575 ? 1640 ? ) Content ( from Patient Grissil ) Lullaby ( from the Same ) · The Praise of Fortune ( from Old Fortunatus ) Rustic ...
Sida 17
... sleep in death , Fitter , where it died to tell , Than that it lived at all . Farewell ! AN ODE TO HIMSELF . [ From Underwoods . ] Where dost thou careless lie Buried in ease and sloth ? Knowledge that sleeps , doth die ; And this ...
... sleep in death , Fitter , where it died to tell , Than that it lived at all . Farewell ! AN ODE TO HIMSELF . [ From Underwoods . ] Where dost thou careless lie Buried in ease and sloth ? Knowledge that sleeps , doth die ; And this ...
Sida 22
... sleep ; Or some great thought doth keep Back the intelligence , and falsely swears They are base and idle fears Whereof the loyal conscience so complains . Thus , by these subtle trains Do several passions invade the mind , And strike ...
... sleep ; Or some great thought doth keep Back the intelligence , and falsely swears They are base and idle fears Whereof the loyal conscience so complains . Thus , by these subtle trains Do several passions invade the mind , And strike ...
Sida 39
... sleep did yield , While as Diana , straying through the field , Suck'd from his sleep - seal'd lips balm for her sore : Whilst I embraced the shadow of my death , I dreaming did far greater pleasure prove , And quaff'd with Cupid sugar ...
... sleep did yield , While as Diana , straying through the field , Suck'd from his sleep - seal'd lips balm for her sore : Whilst I embraced the shadow of my death , I dreaming did far greater pleasure prove , And quaff'd with Cupid sugar ...
Sida 47
... Sleep within this heap of stones ; Here they lie had realms and lands , Who now want strength to stir their hands ; Where from their pulpits seal'd with dust They preach , ' In greatness is no trust . ' Here's an acre sown indeed With ...
... Sleep within this heap of stones ; Here they lie had realms and lands , Who now want strength to stir their hands ; Where from their pulpits seal'd with dust They preach , ' In greatness is no trust . ' Here's an acre sown indeed With ...
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Absalom and Achitophel Æneid beauty Ben Jonson born breast breath bright Carew Castara Comus conceits Cowley Crashaw crown death delight died divine dost doth Dryden earth EDMUND W English English poetry eternal eyes fair fame fancy fate fear fire flame flowers Giles Fletcher glory Gondibert grace hand happy hast hath heart heaven hell Herbert Herrick Hesperides hill honour Hudibras Inner Temple Jonson King Lady light live Lord lost Lycidas Milton mind mistress Muse nature never night o'er once Paradise Paradise Lost Paradise Regained passion Perilla Pindar pleasure poems poet poetic poetry praise reign rose sacred shade shalt shepherds shine sighs sight sing sleep song sonnet soul spirit stars sweet tears thee thine things thou thought tree verse Waller wanton weep winds wings write youth
Populära avsnitt
Sida 311 - And bring all heaven before mine eyes. And may at last my weary age Find out the peaceful hermitage, The hairy gown and mossy cell, Where I may sit and rightly spell Of every star that heaven doth shew, And every herb that sips the dew, Till old experience do attain To something like prophetic strain.
Sida 348 - Me miserable ! which way shall I fly Infinite wrath, and infinite despair ? Which way I fly is hell ; myself am hell ; And in the lowest deep a lower deep Still threatening to devour me opens wide ; To which the hell I suffer seems a heaven.
Sida 10 - DRINK to me only with thine eyes, And I will pledge with mine; Or leave a kiss but in the cup, And I'll not look for wine. The thirst that from the soul doth rise Doth ask a drink divine; But might I of Jove's nectar sup, I would not change for thine.
Sida 333 - He scarce had ceased when the superior Fiend Was moving toward the shore ; his ponderous shield, Ethereal temper, massy, large, and round, Behind him cast. The broad circumference Hung on his shoulders like the moon, whose orb Through optic glass the Tuscan artist views At evening, from the top of Fesole, Or in Valdarno, to descry new lands, Rivers, or mountains, in her spotty globe.
Sida 214 - The glories of our blood and state Are shadows, not substantial things ; There is no armour against fate ; Death lays his icy hand on kings : Sceptre and crown Must tumble down, And in the dust be equal made With the poor crooked scythe and spade.
Sida 174 - Why so pale and wan, fond lover? Prithee, why so pale? Will, when looking well can't move her, Looking ill prevail? Prithee, why so pale?
Sida 450 - Of these the false Achitophel was first, A name to all succeeding ages curst: For close designs and crooked counsels fit, Sagacious, bold, and turbulent of wit; Restless, unfixed in principles and place, In power unpleased, impatient of disgrace ; A fiery soul, which working out its way, Fretted the pigmy body to decay, And o'er-informed the tenement of clay.
Sida 297 - I am now indebted, as being a work not to be raised from the heat of youth, or the vapours of wine, like that which flows at waste from the pen of some vulgar amourist, or the trencher fury of a rhyming parasite ; nor to be obtained by the invocation of dame Memory and her siren daughters ; but by devout prayer to that eternal spirit, who can enrich with all utterance and knowledge, and sends out his seraphim with the hallowed fire of his altar to touch and purify the lips of whom he pleases...
Sida 353 - The birds their quire apply ; airs, vernal airs, Breathing the smell of field and grove, attune The trembling leaves, while universal Pan, Knit with the Graces and the Hours in dance, Led on the eternal spring.
Sida 320 - Fame is the spur that the clear spirit doth raise (That last infirmity of noble mind) To scorn delights, and live laborious days : But the fair guerdon when we hope to find, And think to burst out into sudden blaze, Comes the blind Fury with the abhorred shears And slits the thin-spun life. But not the praise...