The New Golden Treasury of English VerseEdward Leeson |
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Page 362
... BREAK , break , break , On thy cold grey stones , O Sea ! And I would that my tongue could utter The thoughts that arise in me . Oh , well for the fisherman's boy , That he shouts with his sister at play ! Oh , well ... Break, break, break'
... BREAK , break , break , On thy cold grey stones , O Sea ! And I would that my tongue could utter The thoughts that arise in me . Oh , well for the fisherman's boy , That he shouts with his sister at play ! Oh , well ... Break, break, break'
Page 363
... Break , break , break , At the foot of thy crags , O Sea ! But the tender grace of a day that is dead Will never come back to me . From THE PRINCESS THE SPLENDOUR falls on castle walls And snowy summits old in story : The long light ...
... Break , break , break , At the foot of thy crags , O Sea ! But the tender grace of a day that is dead Will never come back to me . From THE PRINCESS THE SPLENDOUR falls on castle walls And snowy summits old in story : The long light ...
Page 498
... Break , break , break , 362 Christmas Eve , and twelve of the clock . Cupid INDEX OF FIRST LINES 102.
... Break , break , break , 362 Christmas Eve , and twelve of the clock . Cupid INDEX OF FIRST LINES 102.
Contents
Anonymous | 1 |
From Troilus and Criseyde | 10 |
John Skelton ?14601529 | 19 |
Copyright | |
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Common terms and phrases
Adlestrop beauty Beeny beneath bird blood breast breath bright clouds Colour-Sergeant dance Danny Deever dark dead dear death deep delight doth dream earth echo ring eternal ev'ry eyes face fair fall fear fire flame flowers forto grace Grantchester green GRONGAR HILL hand hast hath head hear heard heart heaven hill honour Hymen kings kiss land leaves light live look Lord lute Lycidas mind moon morning Muse ne'er never NICHOLAS BRETON night nymphs o'er peace pleasure pow'r praise pride rest rose round Samian wine shade shadow shine sigh sight sing Sir Patrick Spens sleep smile song soul sound spirit spring stars stood sweet tears tell thee thine things thought Timor mortis conturbat Tiresias trees twas unto voice vrom W. B. YEATS weep wild wind woods youth