A Book of Elizabethan Lyrics

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Felix Emmanuel Schelling
Ginn, 1895

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Страница 87 - Coral is far more red than her lips' red: If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun; If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head. I have seen roses damask'd, red and white, But no such roses see I in her cheeks; And in some perfumes is there more delight Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks. I love to hear her speak, yet well I know That music hath a far more pleasing sound...
Страница 184 - Sheds itself through the face, As alone there triumphs to the life All the gain, all the good, of the elements
Страница 84 - Desiring this man's art and that man's scope, With what I most enjoy contented least ; Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising, Haply I think on thee, and then my state, Like to the lark at break of day arising From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven's gate; For thy sweet love remember'd such wealth brings That then I scorn to change my state with kings.
Страница 154 - Full fathom five thy father lies; Of his bones are coral made; Those are pearls that were his eyes: Nothing of him that doth fade, But doth suffer a sea-change Into something rich and strange. Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell : Hark! now I hear them, — ding-dong, bell.
Страница 86 - No longer mourn for me when I am dead Than you shall hear the surly sullen bell Give warning to the world that I am fled From this vile world, with vilest worms to dwell : Nay, if you read this line, remember not The hand that writ it ; for I love you so That I in your sweet thoughts would be forgot If thinking on me then should make you woe.
Страница 58 - With coral clasps and amber studs: And if these pleasures may thee move, Come live with me and be my love.
Страница 122 - O mistress mine, where are you roaming ? O, stay and hear ; your true love's coming, That can sing both high and low : Trip no further, pretty sweeting ; Journeys end in lovers meeting, Every wise man's son doth know.
Страница 84 - When, in disgrace with Fortune and men's eyes, I all alone beweep my outcast state And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries And look upon myself and curse my fate. Wishing me like to one more rich in hope, Featured like him, like him with friends possess'd, Desiring this man's art and that man's scope.
Страница 142 - And poppy or charms can make us sleep as well, And better than thy stroke; why swell'st thou then? One short sleep past, we wake eternally, And death shall be no more; death, thou shalt die.
Страница 164 - Every thing that heard him play, Even the billows of the sea, Hung their heads, and then lay by. In sweet music is such art, Killing care and grief of heart Fall asleep, or hearing die.

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