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 19
... thee of my hairs ; If they burn too , I'll quench them with my tears . " The Sun that shines from Heaven , shines but warm , And lo , I lie between that Sun and thee ; The heat I have from thence doth little harm , Thine eye darts forth ...
... thee of my hairs ; If they burn too , I'll quench them with my tears . " The Sun that shines from Heaven , shines but warm , And lo , I lie between that Sun and thee ; The heat I have from thence doth little harm , Thine eye darts forth ...
Сторінка 23
... thee so indeed , That trembling at th ' imagination , 26 Lie quietly , and hear a little more ; Nay , do not struggle , for thou shalt not rise : To make thee hate the hunting of the boar , Unlike thyself , thou hear'st me moralize ...
... thee so indeed , That trembling at th ' imagination , 26 Lie quietly , and hear a little more ; Nay , do not struggle , for thou shalt not rise : To make thee hate the hunting of the boar , Unlike thyself , thou hear'st me moralize ...
Сторінка 25
... thee for this stroke ; They bid thee crop a weed , thou pluck'st a flower . Love's golden arrow at him should have fled , And not Death's ebon dart , to strike him dead . " Dost thou drink tears , that thou provok'st such weeping ? What ...
... thee for this stroke ; They bid thee crop a weed , thou pluck'st a flower . Love's golden arrow at him should have fled , And not Death's ebon dart , to strike him dead . " Dost thou drink tears , that thou provok'st such weeping ? What ...
Сторінка 32
... thee unto mine . " Thus I forestall thee , if thou mean to chide : Thy beauty hath ensnar'd thee to this night , Where thou with patience must my will abide , My will that marks thee for my earth's deligät , Which I to conquer sought ...
... thee unto mine . " Thus I forestall thee , if thou mean to chide : Thy beauty hath ensnar'd thee to this night , Where thou with patience must my will abide , My will that marks thee for my earth's deligät , Which I to conquer sought ...
Сторінка 33
... thee only lov'd for fear , But happy monarchs still are fear'd for love : With foul offenders thou perforce must bear , When they in thee the like offences prove : If but for fear of this , thy will remove ; For princes are the glass ...
... thee only lov'd for fear , But happy monarchs still are fear'd for love : With foul offenders thou perforce must bear , When they in thee the like offences prove : If but for fear of this , thy will remove ; For princes are the glass ...
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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