Songs and Masques, with Observations in the Art of English Poesy

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A. H. Bullen, 1903 - 288 страници

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Страница 20 - ... upright, Whose guiltless heart is free From all dishonest deeds, Or thought of vanity; The man whose silent days In harmless joys are spent, Whom hopes cannot delude, Nor sorrow discontent; That man needs neither towers Nor armour for defence, Nor secret vaults to fly From thunder's violence: He only can behold With unaffrighted eyes The horrors of the deep And terrors of the skies. Thus, scorning all the cares That fate or fortune brings, He makes the heaven his book, His wisdom heavenly things;...
Страница 19 - THE man of life upright, Whose guiltless heart is free From all dishonest deeds, Or thought of vanity; The man whose silent days In harmless joys are spent, Whom hopes cannot delude Nor sorrow discontent: That man needs neither towers Nor armour for defence, Nor secret vaults to fly From thunder's violence. He only can behold With unaffrighted eyes The horrors of the deep And terrors of the skies. Thus scorning all the cares That fate or fortune brings, He makes the heaven his book, His wisdom...
Страница 97 - With lovers' long discourse; Much speech hath some defence, Though beauty no remorse. All do not all things well; Some measures comely tread, Some knotted riddles tell, Some poems smoothly read. The summer hath his joys, And winter his delights; Though love and all his pleasures are but toys, \ They shorten tedious nights.
Страница 96 - NOW winter nights enlarge The number of their hours ; And clouds their storms discharge Upon the airy towers. Let now the chimneys blaze And cups o'erflow with wine, Let well-tuned words amaze With harmony divine ! Now yellow waxen lights Shall wait on honey love While youthful revels, masques, and Courtly sights, Sleep's leaden spells remove. This time doth well dispense With lovers' long discourse ; Much speech hath some defence, Though beauty no remorse.
Страница 9 - Follow thy fair sun, unhappy shadow, Though thou be black as night, And she made all of light, Yet follow thy fair sun, unhappy shadow. Follow her whose light thy light depriveth, Though here thou liv'st disgraced, And she in heaven is placed, Yet follow her whose light the world reviveth. Follow those pure beams whose beauty burneth, That so have scorched thee, As thou still black must be, Till her kind beams thy black to brightness turneth. Follow her while yet her glory shineth: There comes...
Страница 62 - She can wreaths and tutties make, And trim with plums a bridal cake. Jack knows what brings gain or loss, And his long flail can stoutly toss; Makes the hedge which others break, And ever thinks what he doth speak. Now, you courtly dames and knights, That study only strange delights; Though you scorn the homespun gray, And revel in your rich array; Though your tongues dissemble deep, And can your heads from danger keep; Yet, for all your pomp and train, Securer lives the silly swain!
Страница 10 - Though here thou liv'st disgraced, And She in heaven is placed; Yet follow her, whose light the world reviveth ! Follow those pure beams; whose beauty burneth! That so have scorched thee; As thou still black must be, Till her kind beams, thy black to brightness turneth! Follow her, while yet her glory shineth! There comes a luckless night, That will dim all her light; And this, the black unhappy Shade divineth! Follow still! since so thy Fates ordained. The Sun must have his Shade, Till both at once...
Страница 116 - Cherry-ripe' themselves do cry. Those cherries fairly do enclose Of orient pearl a double row, Which when her lovely laughter shows, They look like rosebuds filled with snow. Yet them nor peer nor prince can buy, Till 'Cherry-ripe
Страница 21 - WHEN thou must home to shades of underground. And there arrived, a new admired guest, The beauteous spirits do engirt thee round. White lope, blithe Helen, and the rest, To hear the stories of thy finished love From that smooth tongue whose music hell can move ; Then wilt thou...
Страница 93 - KIND are her answers, But her performance keeps no day ; Breaks time, as dancers From their own music when they stray. All her free favours and smooth words, Wing my hopes in vain. O did ever voice so sweet but only feign ? Can true love yield such delay, Converting joy to pain ? Lost is our freedom, When we submit to women so : Why do we need them When, in their best they work our woe ? There is no wisdom Can alter ends, by Fate prefixt.

Информация за автора (1903)

A practicing physician and musician throughout his life, Thomas Campion wrote poetry, songs, masques, and a treatise on music and poetry. His lyrics possess rare charm and freshness, as well as a melodiousness and metrical variety that reflect their musical origin. In his introduction to Campion's collected works, Walter R. Davis wrote, "Campion's pursuit of the movements of sound is recorded in that strange but subtle treatise, Observations in the Art of English Poesie (1602), and its fruits are preserved in his songbooks. He is a poet-perhaps the poet-of the auditory rather than the visual imagination. He offers us experiences that strike the ear."

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