Spenser's Poem, Entitled Colin Clouts Come Home Againe, Explained: With Remarks Upon the Amoretti Sonnets, and Also Upon a Few of the Minor Poems of Other Early English PoetsJ. Miller, 1865 - 306 стор. |
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Сторінка 219
... Lyke captives trembling at the victors sight . And happy lines ! on which , with starry light , Those lamping eyes will deigne sometimes to look , And reade the sorrowes of my dying spright , Written with teares in harts close ...
... Lyke captives trembling at the victors sight . And happy lines ! on which , with starry light , Those lamping eyes will deigne sometimes to look , And reade the sorrowes of my dying spright , Written with teares in harts close ...
Сторінка 220
... lyke to vipers brood ; And seeke some succour both to ease my smart , And also to sustayne thy selfe with food . But , if in presence of that fayrest Proud Thou chance to come , fall lowly at her feet ; And , with meek humblesse and ...
... lyke to vipers brood ; And seeke some succour both to ease my smart , And also to sustayne thy selfe with food . But , if in presence of that fayrest Proud Thou chance to come , fall lowly at her feet ; And , with meek humblesse and ...
Сторінка 224
... lyke to lusts of baser kynd , The harder wonne , the firmer will abide . The durefull oake , whose sap is not yet dride , Is long ere it conceive the kindling fyre ; But , when it once doth burne , it doth divide Great heat , and makes ...
... lyke to lusts of baser kynd , The harder wonne , the firmer will abide . The durefull oake , whose sap is not yet dride , Is long ere it conceive the kindling fyre ; But , when it once doth burne , it doth divide Great heat , and makes ...
Сторінка 240
... Lyke sacred Priests that never thinke amisse ; There I to her , as th ' author of my blisse , Will builde an altar to appease her yre ; And on the same my hart will sacrifise , Burning in flames of pure and chaste desyre : The which ...
... Lyke sacred Priests that never thinke amisse ; There I to her , as th ' author of my blisse , Will builde an altar to appease her yre ; And on the same my hart will sacrifise , Burning in flames of pure and chaste desyre : The which ...
Сторінка 242
... men a scourge should bee , For all their faults with which they did offend . But , since ye are my scourge , I will intreat , That for my faults ye will me gently beat . XXV . How long shall this lyke dying lyfe endure 242 THE AMORETTI .
... men a scourge should bee , For all their faults with which they did offend . But , since ye are my scourge , I will intreat , That for my faults ye will me gently beat . XXV . How long shall this lyke dying lyfe endure 242 THE AMORETTI .
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Spenser's Poem, Entitled Colin Clouts Come Home Againe, Explained: With ... Ethan Allen Hitchcock Попередній перегляд недоступний - 2019 |
Spenser's Poem, Entitled Colin Clouts Come Home Againe, Explained; With ... Ethan Allen Hitchcock Попередній перегляд недоступний - 2017 |
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addressed Arcadia beauty behold blisse Bregog brest called Carew Chaucer Clouts Come Home Colin Clouts conceived Court of Love cruell Cynthia deare delight divine doest doth Elizabeth envy eternal expression eyes Faerie Queene fair fayre figure flowers Fortunate Isle fyre gentle glorious glory golden goodly grace happy hart hast hath heart heaven heavenly hight honor lady land light live looke lovers lyke meaning mind mistress Mulla Muse mynd mystic nature never nought Nymph object Old Mole over-soul peerlesse price Peize perfect pipe pleasure poem poet poet's poetic powre praise prayses pride Queen quoth reader referred seek seen selfe sense Shakespeare's Sonnets shepheards Shepherd's Paradise Sith skie skill Sonnet of Shakespeare soul speak Spenser Spirit of Truth spright Strange Shepherd sweet tell Theana thee theyr things thou thought true unity unto Vide REMARKS visible woman words
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Сторінка 68 - Two loves I have, of comfort and despair, Which, like two spirits, do suggest me still: The better angel is a man right fair, The worser spirit a woman coloured ill. To win me soon to hell my female evil Tempteth my better angel from my side, And would corrupt my saint to be a devil, Wooing his purity with her foul pride...
Сторінка 138 - But thy eternal summer shall not fade Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest ; Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade, When in eternal lines to time thou growest: So long as men can breathe or eyes can see, So long lives this and this gives life to thee.
Сторінка 197 - For then my thoughts, from far where I abide, Intend a zealous pilgrimage to thee, And keep my drooping eyelids open wide, Looking on darkness which the blind do see : Save that my soul's imaginary sight Presents thy shadow to my sightless view, Which, like a jewel hung in ghastly night, Makes black night beauteous and her old face new.
Сторінка 59 - How like a winter hath my absence been From thee, the pleasure of the fleeting year! What freezings have I felt, what dark days seen! What old December's bareness everywhere! And yet this time removed was summer's time; The teeming autumn, big with rich increase, Bearing the wanton burden of the prime, Like widow'd wombs after their lords...
Сторінка 39 - EPITAPH. ON THE COUNTESS OF PEMBROKE. UNDERNEATH this sable hearse Lies the subject of all verse, Sidney's sister, Pembroke's mother : Death, ere thou hast slain another, Fair, and learned, and good as she, Time shall throw a dart at thee.
Сторінка 306 - Like as the culver, on the bared bough, Sits mourning for the absence of her mate; And, in her songs, sends many a wishful vow For his return that seems to linger late: So I alone, now left disconsolate, Mourn to myself the absence of my love; And, wand'ring here and there all desolate, Seek with my plaints to match that mournful dove.
Сторінка 132 - 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.
Сторінка 59 - Like widow'd wombs after their lords' decease: Yet this abundant issue seem'd to me But hope of orphans, and unfather'd fruit; For summer and his pleasures wait on thee, And, thou away, the very birds are mute: Or, if they sing, 'tis with so dull a cheer, That leaves look pale, dreading the winter's near.
Сторінка 222 - So when my toung would speak her praises dew, It stopped is with thoughts astonishment...
Сторінка 245 - SWEET is the Rose, but growes upon a brere; Sweet is the lunipeer, but sharpe his bough; Sweet is the Eglantine, but pricketh nere; Sweet is the Firbloome, but his...