The English Anthology ...Joseph Ritson "A selection of English poetry, in a chronological series, from the beginning of the sixteenth century (or, including an extract from Chaucer, from the latter part of the fourteenth) to the present time, upon a plan hitherto unattempted, at least in this country. ... No alteration (except in apparent mistakes) has been attempted either in the language or in the orthography, as as little as possible even in the punctuation, of the edition followed ... nor has any piece been inserted which had already appeared in "A Select Collection of English Songs," published in 1783"--Advertisement. |
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Page 25
... thro ' the ayr Her beams of wrath , fhe kils me with despair ; If the behold me with a pleasing eye , 5 I furfet with exceffe of joy , and dye . 10 ETERNITY OF LOVE PROTESTED . How ill doth he deserve a lover's name , Whose pale weak ...
... thro ' the ayr Her beams of wrath , fhe kils me with despair ; If the behold me with a pleasing eye , 5 I furfet with exceffe of joy , and dye . 10 ETERNITY OF LOVE PROTESTED . How ill doth he deserve a lover's name , Whose pale weak ...
Page 105
... thro the brakes , and prickly thorn ; Two maftiffs gaunt and grim her flight pursued , And oft their fasten'd fangs in blood embru'd : Oft they came up , and pinch'd her tender fide ; Mercy , O mercy , heav'n ! fhe ran , and cry'd ...
... thro the brakes , and prickly thorn ; Two maftiffs gaunt and grim her flight pursued , And oft their fasten'd fangs in blood embru'd : Oft they came up , and pinch'd her tender fide ; Mercy , O mercy , heav'n ! fhe ran , and cry'd ...
Page 108
... thro her back he drew , And fed the hounds that help'd him to pursue . Stern look'd the fiend , as frustrate of his will , Not half fuffic'd , and greedy yet to kill . And now the foul , expiring through the wound , Had left the body ...
... thro her back he drew , And fed the hounds that help'd him to pursue . Stern look'd the fiend , as frustrate of his will , Not half fuffic'd , and greedy yet to kill . And now the foul , expiring through the wound , Had left the body ...
Page 152
... Thro ' all the isle her beauty was confefs'd . Oh ! what perfections must that virgin share , Who fairest is esteem'd , where all are fair ! From diftant shires repair the noble youth , And find report , for once , had leffen'd truth ...
... Thro ' all the isle her beauty was confefs'd . Oh ! what perfections must that virgin share , Who fairest is esteem'd , where all are fair ! From diftant shires repair the noble youth , And find report , for once , had leffen'd truth ...
Page 156
... a frequent wreath for Henry's hair ; Which as with gay delight the lover found , Pleas'd with his conqueft , with her prefent crown'd , V. 192. beach . 201 205 Glorious thro ' all the plains he oft had gone 156 PRIOR .
... a frequent wreath for Henry's hair ; Which as with gay delight the lover found , Pleas'd with his conqueft , with her prefent crown'd , V. 192. beach . 201 205 Glorious thro ' all the plains he oft had gone 156 PRIOR .
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Common terms and phrases
againſt beauty bleft Born breaſt cauſe charms cloſe Cynthus DAPHNIS defire deſpair doth dyed e'er eaſe Ev'n ev'ry eyes facred fafe fair falutes fame fate fear fecret feems fhade fhall fide fighs fight filence filk fing firſt flame flow foft fome fong foon forrow foul freſh ftill fuch fudden fung fwain fweet grace groves hath heart heav'n himſelf HOBBINOL inſpire itſelf kings laft LANQUET laſt lefs loft lov'd Lycidas maid MICHAEL DRAYTON mind moffy moſt Mufe muft Muſe muſt night numbers Nut-brown Maid nymph o'er paffion paſs paſt pleaſe pleaſure pow'r praiſe purſue raiſe reft reſt rife roſes ſcene ſeen ſhade ſhall ſhape ſhe ſhore ſhould ſhow ſkies ſkill ſky ſome ſpread ſpring ſtate ſtill ſtrain ſtream ſweet tears thee theſe thine thoſe thou thouſand thro Twas uſe verſe Whilft whofe whoſe winds wiſh youth
Popular passages
Page 35 - Sometimes, with secure delight, The upland hamlets will invite, When the merry bells ring round, And the jocund rebecks sound To many a youth and many a maid, Dancing in the chequered shade; And young and old come forth to play On a sunshine holiday, Till the livelong daylight fail...
Page 39 - Swinging slow with sullen roar; Or if the air will not permit, Some still removed place will fit, Where glowing embers through the room Teach light to counterfeit a gloom...
Page 43 - Bitter constraint, and sad occasion dear, Compels me to disturb your season due : For Lycidas* is dead, dead ere his prime, Young Lycidas, and hath not left his peer : Who would not sing for Lycidas ? He knew Himself to sing, and build the lofty rhyme.
Page 33 - Haste thee, Nymph, and bring with thee Jest, and youthful Jollity, Quips and cranks, and wanton wiles, Nods and becks, and wreathed smiles, Such as hang on Hebe's cheek, And love to live in dimple sleek ; Sport that wrinkled Care derides, And Laughter holding both his sides.
Page 118 - Bacchus' blessings are a treasure, Drinking is the soldier's pleasure ; Rich the treasure, Sweet the pleasure ; Sweet is pleasure after pain. Soothed with the sound, the king grew vain ; Fought all his battles o'er again ; And thrice he routed all his foes, and thrice he slew the slain.
Page 46 - O fountain Arethuse, and thou honoured flood, Smooth-sliding Mincius, crowned with vocal reeds, That strain I heard was of a higher mood ! But now my oat proceeds, And listens to the Herald of the Sea That came in Neptune's plea.
Page 44 - For we were nursed upon the self-same hill, Fed the same flock by fountain, shade, and rill. Together both, ere the high lawns appeared Under the opening eyelids of the morn, We drove a-field, and both together heard What time the gray-fly winds her sultry horn...
Page 117 - Flushed with a purple grace He shows his honest face: Now give the hautboys breath; he comes, he comes! Bacchus , ever fair and young , Drinking joys did first ordain : Bacchus...
Page 46 - The air was calm, and on the level brine Sleek Panope with all her sisters played. It was that fatal and perfidious bark, Built in the eclipse, and rigged with curses dark, That sunk so low that sacred head of thine.
Page 49 - Weep no more, woeful shepherds, weep no more, For Lycidas your sorrow is not dead, Sunk though he be beneath the watery floor. So sinks the day-star in the ocean bed. And yet anon repairs his drooping head, And tricks his beams, and with new-spangled ore Flames in the forehead of the morning sky...