The book of sonnets, ed by A.M. Woodford |
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Página 77
... and that rich Dowager of France ; Surrey , with his faire paragon of Fame ,
Dudley ' s mishap , and virtuous Grey ' s mischance ; Their severall loves , since I
before have showne , Now , give mee leave , at last to sing mine owne . TO THE
...
... and that rich Dowager of France ; Surrey , with his faire paragon of Fame ,
Dudley ' s mishap , and virtuous Grey ' s mischance ; Their severall loves , since I
before have showne , Now , give mee leave , at last to sing mine owne . TO THE
...
Página 87
Yield thy hand ' s pride unto th ' ivory white , Th ' Arabian odours give thy
breathing sweet ; Restore thy blush unto Aurora bright , To Thetis give the honour
of thy feet . Let Venus have thy graces , her resigned , And thy sweet voice give
back ...
Yield thy hand ' s pride unto th ' ivory white , Th ' Arabian odours give thy
breathing sweet ; Restore thy blush unto Aurora bright , To Thetis give the honour
of thy feet . Let Venus have thy graces , her resigned , And thy sweet voice give
back ...
Página 90
My ambitious thoughts confined in her face , Affect no honour , but what she can
give : My hopes do rest in limits of her grace , I weigh no comfort unless she
relieve . For she that can my heart imparadise , Holds in her fairest hands what ...
My ambitious thoughts confined in her face , Affect no honour , but what she can
give : My hopes do rest in limits of her grace , I weigh no comfort unless she
relieve . For she that can my heart imparadise , Holds in her fairest hands what ...
Página 95
Her touch doth cause the warble of the sound , Which here I yield in lamentable
wise ; A wailing descant on the sweetest ground , † Whose due reports give
honour to her eyes . Else harsh my style , untunable my Muse ; Hoarse sounds
the ...
Her touch doth cause the warble of the sound , Which here I yield in lamentable
wise ; A wailing descant on the sweetest ground , † Whose due reports give
honour to her eyes . Else harsh my style , untunable my Muse ; Hoarse sounds
the ...
Página 114
DEAR wood ! and you , sweet solitary place , Where I , estrangèd from the vulgar
, live , Contented more with what your shades me give , Than if I had what Thetis
doth embrace : What snaky eye , grown jealous of my pace , Now from your ...
DEAR wood ! and you , sweet solitary place , Where I , estrangèd from the vulgar
, live , Contented more with what your shades me give , Than if I had what Thetis
doth embrace : What snaky eye , grown jealous of my pace , Now from your ...
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Palavras e frases frequentes
appear bear beauty bird born breast breath bright charm clouds cold dark dear death deep delight desire doth earth eyes face fade fair faithful fall fear feel fire flowers gentle give glory grace green grief hand happy hast hath head hear heart heaven honour hope hour Italy leaves light lines live lonely look meet mind morn Muse never night o'er once pain pale passed peace poet poor praise rest round scene seek seems seen shade shine sigh sight sing sleep smile soft Sonnet sorrow soul sound speak spirit spring stars summer sweet tears thee thine things thou thought true unto virtues voice wandering waves weary Whilst wild winds wings wish woods youth
Passagens conhecidas
Página 61 - Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore, So do our minutes hasten to their end; Each changing place with that which goes before, In sequent toil all forwards do contend.
Página 127 - How soon hath Time, the subtle thief of youth, Stolen on his wing my three-and-twentieth year! My hasting days fly on with full career, But my late spring no bud or blossom shew'th.
Página 65 - But then begins a journey in my head, To work my mind, when body's work's expired: For then my thoughts, from far where I abide, Intend a zealous pilgrimage to thee...
Página 56 - To me, fair friend, you never can be old, For as you were when first your eye I eyed, Such seems your beauty still. Three winters cold Have from the forests shook three summers' pride, Three beauteous springs to yellow autumn turn'd In process of the seasons have I seen, Three April perfumes in three hot Junes burn'd, Since first I saw you fresh, which yet are green. Ah ! yet...
Página 62 - When, in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes, I all alone beweep my outcast state, And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries, And look upon myself and curse my fate, Wishing me like to one more rich in hope, Featured like him, like him with friends possessed, Desiring this man's art and that man's scope...
Página 56 - The rose looks fair, but fairer we it deem For that sweet odour, which doth in it live. The canker blooms have full as deep a dye As the perfumed tincture of the roses.
Página 61 - Full many a glorious morning have I seen Flatter the mountain-tops with sovereign eye, Kissing with golden face the meadows green, Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy; Anon permit the basest clouds to ride With ugly rack on his celestial face, And from the forlorn world his visage hide, Stealing unseen to west with this disgrace.
Página 58 - Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate: Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, And summer's lease hath all too short a date...
Página 143 - And in my breast the imperfect joys expire; Yet morning smiles the busy race to cheer, And new-born pleasure brings to happier men; The fields to all their wonted tribute bear; To warm their little loves the birds complain. I fruitless mourn to him that cannot hear, And weep the more because I weep in vain...
Página 58 - When I do count the clock that tells the time, And see the brave day sunk in hideous night, When I behold the violet past prime, And sable curls all silver'd o'er with white, When lofty trees I see barren of leaves Which erst from heat did canopy the herd...
Informação bibliográfica
| Título | The book of sonnets, ed by A.M. Woodford |
| Editor | A Montagu Woodford |
| Publicação | 1841 |
| Original de | Universidade de Oxford |
| Digitalizado | 21 Abr 2006 |
| Exportar citação | BiBTeX EndNote RefMan |