 | William Beloe - 1807 - 468 страници
...my bosome like a bee Doth suck his sweete, How with his wings he plaies with me, Now wijh his feete. Within mine eyes he makes his nest, His bed amidst...feast, And yet he robs me of my rest. Ah Wanton will ye ? And if I sleepe then pearcheth he With prettie flight, And makes his pillow of my knee The live long... | |
 | Sir Egerton Brydges - 1812 - 502 страници
...expressed with more finished and happy artifice of language, than Rosalind's Madrigal, beginning " Love in my bosom, like a bee, Doth suck his sweet...me, Now with his feet. Within mine eyes he makes his rest; His bed amidst my tender breast; My kisses are his daily feast ; And yet lie robs me of my rest.... | |
 | John Bodenham - 1812 - 318 страници
...expressed with more finished and happy artifice of language, than Rosalind's Madrigal, beginning " Love in my bosom, like a bee, Doth suck his sweet...me, Now with his feet. Within mine eyes he makes his rest; His bed amidst my tender breast; My kisses are his daily feast ; And yet he robs me of my rest.... | |
 | Thomas Campbell - 1819 - 420 страници
...Before my pen, by help of Fame, Cease to recite thy sacred name. ROSALIND'S MADRIGAL. FROM THE SAME. LOVE in my bosom, like a bee, Doth suck his sweet...And yet he robs me of my rest : Ah, wanton, will ye ! And if I sleep, then pierceth he With pretty slight ; And makes his pillow of my knee The live-long... | |
 | William Shakespeare - 1826 - 472 страници
...having * The following beautiful Stanzas are part of what is called * Rosalynd's Madrigal,' and are not unworthy of a place even in a page devoted to Shakspeare...the formation of this exquisite pastoral drama, is enoogh to make us withhold our assent to Steevens's splenetic censure of it as ' worthless.' Touched... | |
 | Thomas Lyle - 1827 - 272 страници
...and terseness more modern by a hundred years, than others of his contemporaries. ROSALIND'S MADRIGAL. LOVE in my bosom, like a bee, Doth suck his sweet,...And yet he robs me of my rest: Ah! wanton, will ye! And if I sleep, then pierceth he With pretty slight, And makes his pillow of my knee, The live long... | |
 | Ancient ballads - 1827 - 270 страници
...and terseness more modern by a hundred years, than others of his contemporaries. ROSALIND'S MADRIGAL. LOVE in my bosom, like a bee, Doth suck his sweet,...And yet he robs me of my rest: Ah! wanton, will ye! And if I sleep, then pierceth he With pretty slight, And makes his pillow of my knee, The live long... | |
 | John Johnstone (of Edinburgh.) - 1828 - 600 страници
...was swept away, among many other unnoticed individuals, by the plague in 1625. ROSALIND S MADRIGAL. LOVE in my bosom, like a bee, Doth suck his sweet...And yet he robs me of my rest : Ah ! wanton, will ye ? And if I sleep, then pierceth he With pretty slight ; And makes his pillow of my knee The live-long... | |
 | William Shakespeare - 1831 - 542 страници
...* The following beautiful Stanzas are рал of what is called * Rosalynd's Madrigal,1 and are not illiam Hie bed amidst my tender breast, My kisses are hie daily feast, And yet he robs me of my reut. Ali,... | |
 | 1834 - 480 страници
...birth in the next. Thus in steering through life, Sic. LOVE IN MY BOSOM LIKE A BEb (T. Lodge, 1614.) LOVE in my bosom like a bee Doth suck his sweet ;...feet. Within mine eyes he makes his nest. His bed amid my tender breast • My kisses are his daily feast, And yet he robs me ot my rest. Strike I my... | |
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Love in my bosom like a bee, Doth suck his sweet; Now with his wings he plays with me, Now with his feet. Within mine eyes he makes his nest, His bed amidst my tender breast, My kisses are his daily feast; And yet he robs me of my rest: Ah, wanton, will... 
