The British Poets: Including Translations ...C. Whittingham, 1822 - Classical poetry |
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Page 25
... teares to steepe ; But , when I saw the anguish of his spright Some deale alaid , I him bespake againe ; " Certes , Alcyon , painfull is thy plight , That it in me breeds almost equall paine . " Yet doth not my dull wit well understand ...
... teares to steepe ; But , when I saw the anguish of his spright Some deale alaid , I him bespake againe ; " Certes , Alcyon , painfull is thy plight , That it in me breeds almost equall paine . " Yet doth not my dull wit well understand ...
Page 28
... teares ? What Timon but would let compassion creepe Into his breast , and pierce his frosen eares ? In stead of teares , whose brackish bitter well I wasted have , my heart bloud dropping weares , To think to ground how that faire ...
... teares ? What Timon but would let compassion creepe Into his breast , and pierce his frosen eares ? In stead of teares , whose brackish bitter well I wasted have , my heart bloud dropping weares , To think to ground how that faire ...
Page 32
... teares which fro mine eyes do raine , My bed the ground that hardest I may fynd ; So will I wilfully increase my paine . " And she , my love that was , my saint that is , When she beholds from her celestiall throne ( In which shee ...
... teares which fro mine eyes do raine , My bed the ground that hardest I may fynd ; So will I wilfully increase my paine . " And she , my love that was , my saint that is , When she beholds from her celestiall throne ( In which shee ...
Page 33
... teares supplyes . " I hate the day , because it lendeth light To see all things , and not my love to see ; I hate the darknesse and the dreary night , Because they breed sad balefulnesse in mee ; I hate all times , because , all times ...
... teares supplyes . " I hate the day , because it lendeth light To see all things , and not my love to see ; I hate the darknesse and the dreary night , Because they breed sad balefulnesse in mee ; I hate all times , because , all times ...
Page 34
... teares ; I hate to smell , no sweet on earth is left ; I hate to feele , my flesh is numbd with feares : So all my senses from me are bereft . " I hate all men , and shun all womankinde ; The one , because as I they wretched are ; The ...
... teares ; I hate to smell , no sweet on earth is left ; I hate to feele , my flesh is numbd with feares : So all my senses from me are bereft . " I hate all men , and shun all womankinde ; The one , because as I they wretched are ; The ...
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Common terms and phrases
admyre adorne Alcyon Anchises ARTHUR GORGES aspyre Astrophel Astrophill beames beast beautie behold blisse bowre brest bright celestiall Colin cruell Cynthia darknesse dart deare death delight devize dight dolefull doth earth eccho ring eternall eyes face faire fairest farre fayre flowre fyre GABRIELL HARVEY gentle glorie glorious goodly grace griefe grone happie hart hast hath heart heaven heavenly hight honour immortall ioyes ioyous light live Lord lovers Lycon lyke Lyonesse mightie mourne Muse mynd never night nought Nymphes paine peerlesse price plaine powre praise prayses pride quoth rest seeke seem'd shepheards shew shyning sight sing Sith skie song SONNET sorrow soule spright sunne sweet teares thee theyr things thou doest thought thy selfe trew unto vaine Venus vertue weene whereof Whilest wight wize wont woods worthie wretched wyde
Popular passages
Page 170 - The more they on it stare. But her sad eyes, still fastened on the ground, Are governed with goodly modesty, That suffers not one look to glance awry Which may let in a little thought unsound.
Page 194 - So every spirit, as it is most pure, And hath in it the more of heavenly light, So it the fairer bodie doth procure To habit in, and it more fairely dight With chearefull grace and amiable sight ; For of the soule the bodie forme doth take ; For soule is forme, and doth the bodie make.
Page 175 - Doe burne, that to us wretched earthly clods In dreadful darknesse lend desired light; And all ye powers which in the same...
Page 166 - Phoebus, father of the Muse If ever I did honour thee aright, Or sing the thing, that mote thy mind delight, Doe not thy servants simple boone refuse, But let this day, let this one day, be myne, Let all the rest be thine.
Page 106 - So purely white they were, That even the gentle streame, the which them bare, Seem'd foule to them, and bad his billowes spare To wet their silken feathers, least they might Soyle their fayre plumes with water not so fayre, And marre their beauties bright, That shone as heavens light, Against their Brydale day, which was not long: Sweete Themmes! runne softly, till I end my Song.
Page 125 - Sweet is the Nut, but bitter is his pill; Sweet is the Broome-flowre, but yet sowre enough; And sweet is Moly, but his root is ill.
Page 108 - So they, enranged well, Did on those two attend, And their best service lend Against their wedding day, which was not long: Sweet Thames run softly, till I end my song.
Page 171 - And bonefiers make all day; And daunce about them, and about them sing, That all the woods may answer, and your eccho ring. Ah ! when will this long weary day have end, And lende me leave to come unto my love ? How slowly do the houres theyr numbers spend ? How slowly does sad Time his feathers move?
Page 169 - And blesseth her with his two happy hands, How the red roses flush up in her cheekes, And the pure snow, with goodly vermill stayne Like crimsin dyde in grayne : That even th...
Page 145 - ... weary chace, Seeing the game from him escapt away, Sits downe to rest him in some shady place, With panting hounds beguiled of their pray...