Select specimens of the English poets, ed. by A. De VereAubrey Thomas De Vere 1858 |
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Сторінка 29
... honour should . Ah , dearest God , me graunt , I dead be not defould ! 5 The seventh , now after death and buriall done , Had charge the tender orphans of the dead , And wydowes ayd , least they should be undone : In face of iudgement ...
... honour should . Ah , dearest God , me graunt , I dead be not defould ! 5 The seventh , now after death and buriall done , Had charge the tender orphans of the dead , And wydowes ayd , least they should be undone : In face of iudgement ...
Сторінка 37
... Honour and mild Modesty ; There Virtue reigns as queen in royal throne , And giveth laws alone , The which the base affections do obey , And yield their services unto her will ; Ne thought of things uncomely ever may Thereto approach to ...
... Honour and mild Modesty ; There Virtue reigns as queen in royal throne , And giveth laws alone , The which the base affections do obey , And yield their services unto her will ; Ne thought of things uncomely ever may Thereto approach to ...
Сторінка 38
... lie . Tell Zeal it lacks devotion , Tell Love it is but lust , Tell Time it is but motion , Tell Flesh it is but dust ; And wish them not reply , For thou must give the lie . Tell Age it daily wasteth , Tell Honour how it 38 SELECT POETRY .
... lie . Tell Zeal it lacks devotion , Tell Love it is but lust , Tell Time it is but motion , Tell Flesh it is but dust ; And wish them not reply , For thou must give the lie . Tell Age it daily wasteth , Tell Honour how it 38 SELECT POETRY .
Сторінка 39
Aubrey Thomas De Vere. Tell Age it daily wasteth , Tell Honour how it alters , Tell Beauty how she blasteth , Tell Favour how she falters ; And as they shall reply Give every one the lie . Tell Wit how much it wrangles In tickle points ...
Aubrey Thomas De Vere. Tell Age it daily wasteth , Tell Honour how it alters , Tell Beauty how she blasteth , Tell Favour how she falters ; And as they shall reply Give every one the lie . Tell Wit how much it wrangles In tickle points ...
Сторінка 61
... celestial trains That feed upon their Shepherd's eyes ; and frame That heav'nly music of so wond'rous fame , Psalming aloud the holy honours of his name ! PHINEAS FLETCHER . PHINEAS was the elder brother of Giles GILES FLETCHER . 61.
... celestial trains That feed upon their Shepherd's eyes ; and frame That heav'nly music of so wond'rous fame , Psalming aloud the holy honours of his name ! PHINEAS FLETCHER . PHINEAS was the elder brother of Giles GILES FLETCHER . 61.
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Select Specimens of the English Poets, Ed. by A. de Vere Aubrey Thomas De Vere Попередній перегляд недоступний - 2016 |
Select Specimens of the English Poets, Ed by a de Vere Aubrey De Vere Попередній перегляд недоступний - 2012 |
Загальні терміни та фрази
beauty BEN JONSON beneath birds born A.D. bosom breast breath bright Castara Chaucer clouds customed hill dark dead dear death deep delight died A.D. dost doth dream dull earth dwelling earth English poetry eyes fair fame fancy flowers genius GILES FLETCHER glory Gondibert grace grave green happy hast hath hear heart heaven hills honour hour Idlesse king light living looks Lord Lord Byron lyre morning mortal nature ne'er never night numbers nymph o'er PHILIP MASSINGER pleasure poems poet poetic poetry praise rills rise rocks rose round Samian wine shade shine sigh sight silent sing skies sleep smile soft song sorrow soul sound spirit spring stars stream sweet sweet oblivion tears Tell tempest thee thine things thou art thought trees unto vale vex'd virgin voice wave wind wings woods wouldst youth
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Сторінка 253 - Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they? Think not of them, thou hast thy music too, While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day...
Сторінка 254 - Away ! away ! for I will fly to thee, Not charioted by Bacchus and his pards, But on the viewless wings of poesy...
Сторінка 252 - Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness ! Close bosom-friend of the maturing Sun ! Conspiring with him how to load and bless With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eaves run ; To bend with apples the moss'd cottage-trees, And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core...
Сторінка 248 - I bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers, From the seas and the streams; I bear light shade for the leaves when laid In their noonday dreams. From my wings are shaken the dews that waken The sweet buds every one, When rocked to rest on their mother's breast, As she dances about the sun. I wield the flail of the lashing hail, And whiten the green plains under, And then again I dissolve it in rain, And laugh as I pass in thunder.
Сторінка 47 - The friends thou hast, and their adoption tried, Grapple them to thy soul with hoops of steel; But do not dull thy palm with entertainment Of each new-hatch'd, unfledg'd comrade. Beware Of entrance to a quarrel, but being in, Bear't that the opposed may beware of thee. Give every man thine ear, but few thy voice; Take each man's censure, but reserve thy judgment.
Сторінка 18 - And we will sit upon the rocks, Seeing the shepherds feed their flocks, By shallow rivers, to whose falls Melodious birds sing madrigals. And I will make thee beds of roses And a thousand fragrant posies, A cap of flowers, and a kirtle...
Сторінка 94 - Enlarged winds, that curl the flood, Know no such liberty. Stone walls do not a prison make, Nor iron bars a cage; Minds innocent and quiet take That for an hermitage; If I have freedom in my love And in my soul am free, Angels alone, that soar above, Enjoy such liberty.
Сторінка 149 - The paths of glory lead but to the grave. Nor you, ye proud, impute to these the fault If memory o'er their tomb no trophies raise, Where through the long-drawn aisle and fretted vault The pealing anthem swells the note of praise. Can storied urn or animated bust Back to its mansion call the fleeting breath ? Can honour's voice provoke the silent dust, Or flattery soothe the dull cold ear of death...
Сторінка 152 - Beside yon straggling fence that skirts the way, With blossomed furze unprofitably gay, There, in his noisy mansion, skilled to rule, The village master taught his little school. A man severe he was, and stern to view ; I knew him well, and every truant knew. Well had the boding tremblers learned to trace The day's disasters in his morning face...
Сторінка 44 - Hath not old custom made this life more sweet Than that of painted pomp ? Are not these woods More free from peril than the envious court? Here feel we but the penalty of Adam, The seasons' difference ; as, the icy fang, And churlish chiding of the winter's wind ; Which when it bites and blows upon my body, Even till I shrink with cold, I smile, and say, — This is no flattery : these are counsellors, That feelingly persuade me what I am.