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 páginas |
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Página 1
... play . And the poetry of the Anglo - Normans , although its authors were in many cases of English birth , and among them are included some of the Norman kings of England , is regarded as alien , and as belonging more to the early ...
... play . And the poetry of the Anglo - Normans , although its authors were in many cases of English birth , and among them are included some of the Norman kings of England , is regarded as alien , and as belonging more to the early ...
Página 13
... play so womanly , And look so debonairely , So goodly speak and so friendly , That , certes , I trow that nevermore N'as seen so blissful a tresore . For every hair on her head Sooth to say , it was not red , Ne neither yellow , ne ...
... play so womanly , And look so debonairely , So goodly speak and so friendly , That , certes , I trow that nevermore N'as seen so blissful a tresore . For every hair on her head Sooth to say , it was not red , Ne neither yellow , ne ...
Página 20
... play Saw I her onès eke full blissfully ; And yonder onès to me gan she say : ' Now , good sweet , loveth me well , I pray ! ' And yond so goodly9 gan she me behold That to the death mine heart is to her hold.10 And at the corner , in ...
... play Saw I her onès eke full blissfully ; And yonder onès to me gan she say : ' Now , good sweet , loveth me well , I pray ! ' And yond so goodly9 gan she me behold That to the death mine heart is to her hold.10 And at the corner , in ...
Página 68
... how to tell lies to make men laugh . 11 Play on the tabour or horn . 14 Bread . 16 Send him a letter requesting . 18 Stained . 19 Blots . As in apparel and in port proud amongst the people 68 THREE CENTURIES OF ENGLISH POETRY .
... how to tell lies to make men laugh . 11 Play on the tabour or horn . 14 Bread . 16 Send him a letter requesting . 18 Stained . 19 Blots . As in apparel and in port proud amongst the people 68 THREE CENTURIES OF ENGLISH POETRY .
Página 105
... play or mirthè ; strange to spell or read ; Following all appetites ' longing to childhead ; Lightly turning ; wild , and seldom sad ; Weeping for nought , and anon after glad . For little wroth , to strive with my fellow As my passions ...
... play or mirthè ; strange to spell or read ; Following all appetites ' longing to childhead ; Lightly turning ; wild , and seldom sad ; Weeping for nought , and anon after glad . For little wroth , to strive with my fellow As my passions ...
Outras edições - Ver tudo
Three centuries of English poetry: selections from Chaucer to Herrick, with ... Rosaline Orme Masson Visualização integral - 1876 |
Three Centuries of English Poetry: Being Selections from Chaucer to Herrick Visualização integral - 1886 |
Three Centuries of English Poetry: Being Selections from Chaucer to Herrick Rosaline Orme Masson Visualização integral - 1876 |
Palavras e frases frequentes
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
Passagens conhecidas
Página 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.
Página 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.
Página 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...
Página 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.
Página 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...
Página 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...
Página 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!
Página 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...
Página 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...
Página 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.