Spenser. Book II of the Faery Queene: Ed. by G.W. Kitchin

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Clarendon Press, 1903 - 300 страници

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Страница 173 - Eftsoones they heard a most melodious sound, Of all that mote delight a daintie eare, Such as attonce might not on living ground, Save in this Paradise, be heard elsewhere : Right hard it was for wight which did it heare, To read what manner musicke that mote bee ; For all that pleasing is to living eare Was there consorted in one harmonee ; Birdes, voices, instruments, windes, waters, all agree ; The joyous birdes, shrouded in chearefull shade, Their notes unto the voice attempred sweet ; Th...
Страница 206 - Centre, and with impious hands Rifled the bowels of their mother Earth For treasures better hid.
Страница 94 - How oft do they with golden pinions cleave The flitting skies like flying pursuivant, Against foul fiends to aid us militant! They for us fight, they watch and duly ward, And their bright squadrons round about us plant; And all for love, and nothing for reward: O why should Heavenly God to men have such regard ? LONDON: APPROVED SCHOOL BOOKS.
Страница 208 - Full little knowest thou, that hast not tride, What hell it is in suing long to bide : To loose good dayes, that might be better spent ; To wast long nights in pensive discontent ; To speed to-day, to be put back to-morrow ; To feed on hope, to pine with feare and sorrow...
Страница 173 - To th' instruments divine respondence meet: The silver sounding instruments did meet With the base murmure of the waters fall; The waters fall with difference discreet, Now soft, now loud, unto the wind did call: The gentle warbling wind low answered to all.
Страница 222 - Typhoea et coniuratos caelum rescindere fratres. 280 ter sunt conati imponere Pelio Ossam scilicet, atque Ossae frondosum involvere Olympum...
Страница 131 - But true it is that, when the oyle is spent, The light goes out, and weeke is throwne away : So, when he had resignd his regiment, His daughter gan despise his drouping day, And wearie wax of his continuall stay.
Страница 94 - How oft do they their silver bowers leave, To come to succour us, that succour want? How oft do they with golden pinions cleave The flitting skies, like flying pursuivant, Against foul fiends to aid us militant?
Страница 172 - And over all of purest gold was spred A trayle of yvie in his native hew; For the rich metall was so coloured, That wight, who did not well avis'd it vew, Would surely deeme it to bee yvie trew...
Страница 37 - So faire, and thousand thousand times more faire, She seemd, when she presented was to sight ; And was yclad, for heat of scorching aire, All in a silken Camus lilly whight, Purfled upon with many a folded plight, Which all above besprinckled was throughout With golden aygulets, that glistred bright Like twinckling starres ; and all the skirt about Was hemd with golden fringe.

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