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 24
... rest . No , lady , no ; my heart longs not to groan , But soundly sleeps , while now it sleeps alone . " What have you urg'd that I cannot reprove ? The path is smooth that leadeth unto danger ; I hate not love , but your device in love ...
... rest . No , lady , no ; my heart longs not to groan , But soundly sleeps , while now it sleeps alone . " What have you urg'd that I cannot reprove ? The path is smooth that leadeth unto danger ; I hate not love , but your device in love ...
Сторінка 29
... rest himself betakes , [ wakes . Save thieves , and cares , and troubled minds that As one of which doth Tarquin lie revolving The sundry dangers of his will's obtaining ; Yet ever to obtain his will resolving , Though weak - built ...
... rest himself betakes , [ wakes . Save thieves , and cares , and troubled minds that As one of which doth Tarquin lie revolving The sundry dangers of his will's obtaining ; Yet ever to obtain his will resolving , Though weak - built ...
Сторінка 41
... rest thy weary head ; And what wrong else may be imagined By foul enforcement might be done to me , From that , alas ! thy Lucrece is not free . " For in the dreadful dead of dark midnight , With shining falchion in my chamber came A ...
... rest thy weary head ; And what wrong else may be imagined By foul enforcement might be done to me , From that , alas ! thy Lucrece is not free . " For in the dreadful dead of dark midnight , With shining falchion in my chamber came A ...
Сторінка 46
... rest ? When day's oppression is not eas'd by night , But day by night and night by day oppress'd ? And each , though enemies to either's reign , Do in consent shake hands to torture me , The one by toil , the other to complain How far I ...
... rest ? When day's oppression is not eas'd by night , But day by night and night by day oppress'd ? And each , though enemies to either's reign , Do in consent shake hands to torture me , The one by toil , the other to complain How far I ...
Сторінка 63
... rest . Ah ! neither be my share She bade good night , that kept my rest away ; And daft me to a cabin hang'd with care , To descant on the doubts of my decay . [ row ; " " Farewell , " quoth she , " and come again to moг- Farewell I ...
... rest . Ah ! neither be my share She bade good night , that kept my rest away ; And daft me to a cabin hang'd with care , To descant on the doubts of my decay . [ row ; " " Farewell , " quoth she , " and come again to moг- Farewell I ...
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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