The Works of the English Poets, from Chaucer to Cowper;: Shakspeare, Davies, Donne, Hall, Stirling, Jonson, Corbet, Carew, DrummondSamuel Johnson J. Johnson; J. Nichols and son; R. Baldwin; F. and C. Rivington; W. Otridge and Son; Leigh and Sotheby; R. Faulder and Son; G. Nicol and Son; T. Payne; G. Robinson; Wilkie and Robinson; C. Davies; T. Egerton; Scatcherd and Letterman; J. Walker; Vernor, Hood, and Sharpe; R. Lea; J. Nunn; Lackington, Allen, and Company; J. Stockdale; Cuthell and Martin; Clarke and Sons; J. White and Company; Longman, Hurst, Rees, and Orme; Cadell and Davies; J. Barker; John Richardson; J.M. Richardson; J. Carpenter; B. Crosby; E. Jeffery; J. Murray; W. Miller; J. and A. Arch; Black, Parry, and Kingsbury; J. Booker; S. Bagster; J. Harding; J. Mackinlay; J. Hatchard; R.H. Evans; Matthews and Leigh; J. Mawman; J. Booth; J. Asperne; P. and W. Wynne; and W. Grace, Deighton and Son at Cambridge; and Wilson and Son at York, 1810 |
З цієї книги
Результати 1-5 із 100
Сторінка 5
... Better- ton , who communicated it to Mr. Rowe , who , according to Dr. Johnson , related it to Mr. Pope . " Mr. Malone concurs in opinion that this story stands on a very slender foundation , while he differs from Mr. Steevens as to the ...
... Better- ton , who communicated it to Mr. Rowe , who , according to Dr. Johnson , related it to Mr. Pope . " Mr. Malone concurs in opinion that this story stands on a very slender foundation , while he differs from Mr. Steevens as to the ...
Сторінка 18
... better'd with a more delight . Look how he can , she cannot choose but love ; And by her fair immortal hand she swears From his soft bosom never to remove , Till he take truce with her contending tears , Which long have rain'd , making ...
... better'd with a more delight . Look how he can , she cannot choose but love ; And by her fair immortal hand she swears From his soft bosom never to remove , Till he take truce with her contending tears , Which long have rain'd , making ...
Сторінка 37
... better skill . " And whiles against a thorn thou bear'st thy part , To keep thy sharp woes waking , wretched I , To imitate thee well , against my heart , Will fix a sharp knife , to affright mine eye ; Who , if it wink , shall thereon ...
... better skill . " And whiles against a thorn thou bear'st thy part , To keep thy sharp woes waking , wretched I , To imitate thee well , against my heart , Will fix a sharp knife , to affright mine eye ; Who , if it wink , shall thereon ...
Сторінка 38
... better so to clear her [ fashion From that suspicion which the world might bear her . To shun this blot , she would not blot the letter With words , till action might become them better . To see sad sights moves more than hear them told ...
... better so to clear her [ fashion From that suspicion which the world might bear her . To shun this blot , she would not blot the letter With words , till action might become them better . To see sad sights moves more than hear them told ...
Сторінка 47
... better equipage : But since he died , and poets better prove , Theirs for their style I'll read , his for his love . SONNET XXXIII . FULL many a glorious morning have I seen Flatter the mountain tops with sovereign eye , Kissing with ...
... better equipage : But since he died , and poets better prove , Theirs for their style I'll read , his for his love . SONNET XXXIII . FULL many a glorious morning have I seen Flatter the mountain tops with sovereign eye , Kissing with ...
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Загальні терміни та фрази
angels Antinous bear beasts beauty BEN JONSON bloud body breath brest COUNTESS OF BEDFORD court dance dead dear death delight disdaine Donne dost doth Earth errour ev'ry eyes face fair falne false fame fear fire foes foul give glory God's grace grief grone hand hate hath haue hear heart Heaven Hell honour JOHN DONNE king kiss light live look Lord loue lov'd love's Lucrece lust mind Muse never night nought once pain pleasure poison'd poor pow'r praise prince quoth rage SATIRE SATIRE IV SATIRE VII scape scorn seem'd sense Shakspeare shalt shame sighs sight sinne sonne SONNET soul sprite straight strange Sunne sweet tears thee thence thine things thou art thou hast thought thyself tongue true truth twixt unto virtue weep Whil'st wilt wind wretched