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
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Сторінка 23
... bring , That sometimes true news , sometimes false doth Knocks at my heart , and whispers in mine ear , That if I ... brings beauty under : Both favour , savour , hue , and qualities , Whereat th ' imperial gazer late did wonder , Are on ...
... bring , That sometimes true news , sometimes false doth Knocks at my heart , and whispers in mine ear , That if I ... brings beauty under : Both favour , savour , hue , and qualities , Whereat th ' imperial gazer late did wonder , Are on ...
Сторінка 35
... bring him where his suit may be obtained ? When wilt thou sort an hour great strifes to end ? Or free that soul which wretchedness hath chained ? Give physic to the sick , ease to the pained ? The poor , lame , blind , halt , creep ...
... bring him where his suit may be obtained ? When wilt thou sort an hour great strifes to end ? Or free that soul which wretchedness hath chained ? Give physic to the sick , ease to the pained ? The poor , lame , blind , halt , creep ...
Сторінка 47
... bring forth Eternal numbers to out - live long date . If my slight Muse do please these curious days , The pain be mine , but thine shall be the praise . SONNET XXXV . No more be griev'd at that which thou hast done : Roses have thorns ...
... bring forth Eternal numbers to out - live long date . If my slight Muse do please these curious days , The pain be mine , but thine shall be the praise . SONNET XXXV . No more be griev'd at that which thou hast done : Roses have thorns ...
Сторінка 53
... bring a tomb . Their lives more life in one of your fair eyes , Than both your poets can in praise devise . SONNET LXXXIV . ' WHO is it that says most ? which can say more , Than this rich praise , -that you alone are you ? In whose ...
... bring a tomb . Their lives more life in one of your fair eyes , Than both your poets can in praise devise . SONNET LXXXIV . ' WHO is it that says most ? which can say more , Than this rich praise , -that you alone are you ? In whose ...
Сторінка 56
... bring water for my stain . Never believe , though in my nature reign'd All frailties that besiege all kinds of blood , That it could so preposterously be stain'd , To leave for nothing all thy sum of good ; For nothing this wide ...
... bring water for my stain . Never believe , though in my nature reign'd All frailties that besiege all kinds of blood , That it could so preposterously be stain'd , To leave for nothing all thy sum of good ; For nothing this wide ...
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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