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 |
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Сторінка 18
... hath he been my captive and my slave , And begg'd for that which thou unask'd shall have . " Over my altars hath he hung his lance , His batter'd shield , his uncontrolled crest , And for my sake hath learn'd to sport and dance , To coy ...
... hath he been my captive and my slave , And begg'd for that which thou unask'd shall have . " Over my altars hath he hung his lance , His batter'd shield , his uncontrolled crest , And for my sake hath learn'd to sport and dance , To coy ...
Сторінка 20
... hath treble wrong , When it is barr'd the aidance of the tongue . An oven that is stopp'd , or river stay'd , Burneth more hotly , swelleth with more rage : So of concealed sorrow may be said ; Free vent of words love's fire doth ...
... hath treble wrong , When it is barr'd the aidance of the tongue . An oven that is stopp'd , or river stay'd , Burneth more hotly , swelleth with more rage : So of concealed sorrow may be said ; Free vent of words love's fire doth ...
Сторінка 22
... hath ended in the west : The ow !, night's herald , shrieks , ' t is very late ; The sheep are gone to fold , birds to their nest ; The coal - black clouds that shadow Heaven's light , Do summon us to part , and bid good night . " Now ...
... hath ended in the west : The ow !, night's herald , shrieks , ' t is very late ; The sheep are gone to fold , birds to their nest ; The coal - black clouds that shadow Heaven's light , Do summon us to part , and bid good night . " Now ...
Сторінка 35
... hath eyes his treasure to behold , But like still - pining Tantalus he sits , And useles barns the harvest of his wits ; Having no other pleasure of his gain , But torment that it cannot cure his pain . " So then he hath it when he ...
... hath eyes his treasure to behold , But like still - pining Tantalus he sits , And useles barns the harvest of his wits ; Having no other pleasure of his gain , But torment that it cannot cure his pain . " So then he hath it when he ...
Сторінка 40
... hath overslipp'd her thought , That she with painted images hath spent ; Being from the feeling of her own grief brought By deep surmise of others ' detriment ; Losing her woes in shows of discontent . It easeth some , though none it ...
... hath overslipp'd her thought , That she with painted images hath spent ; Being from the feeling of her own grief brought By deep surmise of others ' detriment ; Losing her woes in shows of discontent . It easeth some , though none it ...
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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