The Poems of Alexander Montgomerie, Том 10Society, 1887 - 432 стор. |
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“The” Poems of Alexander Montgomerie, Томи 9 – 11 Alexander Montgomerie Повний перегляд - 1887 |
Загальні терміни та фрази
3our Adeu agane alace ALEXANDER MONTGOMERIE Allan Ramsay appeir aspyre baill baith Bankis of Helicon befoir beir beutie breist byde cair Cherrie culd Curage deid desyre dispair dois doth Dreid dryve Edinburgh evin feir flie Flyting fyre gude haif hairt hald harte haue heid heir hevin hope Icel King kynd kyth leist leivis Lord M.P. xlviii mair maist micht Miscel Miscellaneous Poems Montgomerie mony Muse mynd myne nane neuer nevir nocht ouer Ovid pairt plesur poet POLWART Quha Quhair Quhat Quhen Quhilk Quhy richt sall scho shyning Slae Sonnet speid spreit suld Syne thair thame thay thee thing thir thoght throu thyn tyme vhair vhat vhen vhilk vhill vhom vnto vpon wald weill wryt zour ΙΟ
Популярні уривки
Сторінка 351 - Egypt from Syrian ground, had general names Of Baalim and Ashtaroth ; those male, These feminine : For Spirits, when they please, Can either sex assume, or both ; so soft And uncompounded is their essence pure ; Not tied or manacled with joint or limb, Nor founded on the brittle strength of bones, Like cumbrous flesh...
Сторінка 323 - When in one night, ere glimpse of morn, His shadowy flail hath threshed the corn, That ten day-labourers could not end; Then lies him down, the lubber fiend, And, stretched out all the chimney's length, Basks at the fire his hairy strength; And crop-full out of doors he flings, Ere the first cock his matin rings.
Сторінка 349 - Still grew my bosom then, Still as a stagnant fen! Hateful to me were men, The sunlight hateful! In the vast forest here, Clad in my warlike gear, Fell I upon my spear, Oh, death was grateful!
Сторінка 305 - Not poppy, nor mandragora, Nor all the drowsy syrups of the world, Shall ever medicine thee to that sweet sleep Which thou ow'dst yesterday.
Сторінка 287 - Ut queant laxis resonare fibris Mira gestorum famuli tuorum Solve polluti labii reatum Sancte Joannes.
Сторінка 357 - All thoughts, all passions, all delights, Whatever stirs this mortal frame, All are but ministers of Love, And feed his sacred flame. Oft in my waking dreams do I Live o'er again that happy hour, When midway on the mount I lay, Beside the ruined tower.
Сторінка 307 - ... he cometh to you with words set in delightful proportion, either accompanied with, or prepared for, the well-enchanting skill of music; and with a tale, forsooth, he cometh unto you, with a tale which holdeth children from play and old men from the chimney corner...
Сторінка 356 - Things base and vile, holding no quantity, Love can transpose to form and dignity. Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind ; And therefore is wing'd Cupid painted blind...
Сторінка 356 - Tis beauty truly blent, whose red and white Nature's own sweet and cunning hand laid on...
Сторінка 367 - Distaffe standing in the mid, And with unwearied fingers drawing out The lines of life, from living knowledge hid. Sad Clotho held the rocke, the whiles the thrid By griesly Lachesis was spun with paine, That cruell Atropos eftsoones undid, With cursed knife cutting the twist in twaine : Most wretched men, whose dayes depend on thrids so vaine ! XLIX.