English Lyrics: Chaucer to Poe, 1340-1809Methuen and Company, 1897 - 412 стор. |
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Сторінка x
... Live ( 212 ) , or any song of Herrick's , than Herrick could have written Gulliver or the Direc- tions to Servants , or any line of Swift's . It is a matter of , not genius but , gift . Fifty Herricks would not have made a Swift . But ...
... Live ( 212 ) , or any song of Herrick's , than Herrick could have written Gulliver or the Direc- tions to Servants , or any line of Swift's . It is a matter of , not genius but , gift . Fifty Herricks would not have made a Swift . But ...
Сторінка xi
... live without him , liked it not , and died ' : - all quoted as Lyrics , I shall have said as much as I need to indicate the lines on which this book is done . To insist on the paramount importance of the Lyrical Tempera- ment is not in ...
... live without him , liked it not , and died ' : - all quoted as Lyrics , I shall have said as much as I need to indicate the lines on which this book is done . To insist on the paramount importance of the Lyrical Tempera- ment is not in ...
Сторінка 7
... live alane ; Of force I must his next prey be : - Timor Mortis conturbat me . Since for the dead remeid is none , Best is that we for death dispone , After our death that live may we : - Timor Mortis conturbat me . William Dunbar . 5 ...
... live alane ; Of force I must his next prey be : - Timor Mortis conturbat me . Since for the dead remeid is none , Best is that we for death dispone , After our death that live may we : - Timor Mortis conturbat me . William Dunbar . 5 ...
Сторінка 8
... live in some disport ! William Dunbar . 6 VANITAS VANITATUM O WRETCH , beware ! This world will wend thee fro , Which has beguiléd many great estate . Turn to thy friend , believe not in thy foe ; Since thou must go , be graithing to ...
... live in some disport ! William Dunbar . 6 VANITAS VANITATUM O WRETCH , beware ! This world will wend thee fro , Which has beguiléd many great estate . Turn to thy friend , believe not in thy foe ; Since thou must go , be graithing to ...
Сторінка 19
... live and die , my weal cannot be told . 14 Nicholas Grimald . HENCE , HEART , WITH HER THAT MUST DEPART HENCE , heart , with her that must depart , And hald thee with thy sovereign , For I had liever want ane heart , Nor have the heart ...
... live and die , my weal cannot be told . 14 Nicholas Grimald . HENCE , HEART , WITH HER THAT MUST DEPART HENCE , heart , with her that must depart , And hald thee with thy sovereign , For I had liever want ane heart , Nor have the heart ...
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English Lyrics: Chaucer to Poe; 1340 1809 (Classic Reprint) William Ernest Henley Попередній перегляд недоступний - 2018 |
English Lyrics Chaucer to Poe 1340 - 1809 William Ernest Henley Попередній перегляд недоступний - 2007 |
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Сторінка 265 - SHE dwelt among the untrodden ways Beside the springs of Dove, A Maid whom there were none to praise And very few to love. A violet by a mossy stone Half hidden from the eye ! — Fair as a star, when only one Is shining in the sky. She lived unknown, and few could know When Lucy ceased to be; But she is in her grave, and, oh, The difference to me...
Сторінка 184 - Go, lovely Rose ! Tell her, that wastes her time and me, That now she knows, When I resemble her to thee, How sweet and fair she seems to be. Tell her that's young And shuns to have her graces spied, That hadst thou sprung In deserts, where no men abide, Thou must have uncommended died. Small is the worth Of beauty from the light retired: Bid her come forth, Suffer herself to be desired, And not blush so to be admired. Then die ! that she The common...
Сторінка 121 - Let me not to the marriage of true minds Admit impediments. Love is not love Which alters when it alteration finds, Or bends with the remover to remove: O, no ! it is an ever-fixed mark, That looks on tempests and is never shaken; It is the star to every wandering bark, Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken. Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks Within his bending sickle's compass come; Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, But bears it out even to the edge of...
Сторінка 333 - Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget What thou among the leaves hast never known, The weariness, the fever, and the fret Here, where men sit and hear each other groan ; Where palsy shakes a few, sad, last gray hairs, Where youth grows pale, and spectre-thin, and dies; Where but to think is to be full of sorrow And leaden-eyed despairs; Where Beauty cannot keep her lustrous eyes, Or new Love pine at them beyond tomorrow.
Сторінка 121 - Under the greenwood tree Who loves to lie with me, And turn his merry note Unto the sweet bird's throat, Come hither, come hither, come hither: Here shall he see No enemy But winter and rough weather. Who doth ambition shun And loves to live i...
Сторінка 299 - And on that cheek, and o'er that brow, So soft, so calm, yet eloquent, The smiles that win, the tints that glow, But tell of days in goodness spent, A mind at peace with all below, A heart whose love is innocent ! THE HARP THE MONARCH MINSTREL SWEPT.
Сторінка 268 - Ye blessed creatures, I have heard the call Ye to each other make ; I see The heavens laugh with you in your jubilee ; My heart is at your festival, My head hath its coronal, The fulness of your bliss, I feel — I feel it all. Oh evil day ! if I were sullen While earth herself is adorning, This sweet May-morning, And the children are culling On every side, In a thousand valleys far and wide, Fresh flowers ; while the sun shines warm, And the babe leaps up on his mother's arm...
Сторінка 31 - Who shall ascend into the hill of the Lord? or who shall stand in his holy place ? He that hath clean hands, and a pure heart : who hath not lifted up his soul unto vanity, nor sworn deceitfully.
Сторінка 334 - Charmed magic casements, opening on the foam Of perilous seas in faery lands forlorn. Forlorn ! The very word is like a bell To toll me back from thee to my sole self! Adieu ! The fancy cannot cheat so well As she is famed to do, deceiving elf. Adieu ! Adieu ! Thy plaintive anthem fades Past the near meadows, over the still stream, Up the hill-side; and now 'tis buried deep In the next valley-glades: Was it a vision, or a waking dream? Fled is that music. . . . Do I wake or sleep?
Сторінка 121 - Tu-whit, tu-who ! a merry note, While greasy Joan doth keel the pot. When all aloud the wind doth blow, And coughing drowns the parson's saw, And birds sit brooding in the snow, And Marian's nose looks red and raw, When roasted crabs hiss in the bowl, Then nightly sings the staring owl, Tu-whit, tu-who...