Chaucer to BurnsH. Frowde, Oxford University Press, 1913 |
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Страница 13
... poor old villager in cursing as well as tears , I am afraid it is of no use for me to pray them not to extend their wrath to the poet , who is careful to explain the moral of the story to be , not so much excessive wifely humility , as ...
... poor old villager in cursing as well as tears , I am afraid it is of no use for me to pray them not to extend their wrath to the poet , who is careful to explain the moral of the story to be , not so much excessive wifely humility , as ...
Страница 77
... poor Death , nor yet canst thou kill me . From rest and sleep , which but thy picture be , Much pleasure , then from thee much more must flow , And soonest our best men with thee do go ; Rest of their bones , and soul's delivery . Thou ...
... poor Death , nor yet canst thou kill me . From rest and sleep , which but thy picture be , Much pleasure , then from thee much more must flow , And soonest our best men with thee do go ; Rest of their bones , and soul's delivery . Thou ...
Страница 90
... Poor Richard . It is a store- house of advice , not in the least fanatical , against a host of common follies ; the third glass ' ; the taking of God's name in vain , which , worse than lust , wine , and avarice , with their positive ...
... Poor Richard . It is a store- house of advice , not in the least fanatical , against a host of common follies ; the third glass ' ; the taking of God's name in vain , which , worse than lust , wine , and avarice , with their positive ...
Страница 94
... poor anticipation of Milton , is , like its Italian original , a jumble of tiresome exaggeration . The picture of Satan , chained to his throne of quenchless fire , is inartistically overladen . The Devil's rage in particular , that a ...
... poor anticipation of Milton , is , like its Italian original , a jumble of tiresome exaggeration . The picture of Satan , chained to his throne of quenchless fire , is inartistically overladen . The Devil's rage in particular , that a ...
Страница 98
... Poor simple voice , rais'd in a natural tone . But glorious the defeat , and death ! Her supple breast thrills out Sharp airs , and staggers in a warbling doubt Of dallying sweetness , hovers o'er her skill , And folds in wav'd - notes ...
... Poor simple voice , rais'd in a natural tone . But glorious the defeat , and death ! Her supple breast thrills out Sharp airs , and staggers in a warbling doubt Of dallying sweetness , hovers o'er her skill , And folds in wav'd - notes ...
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A. B. Grosart admiration Andrew Marvell beauty Ben Jonson Book breast breath bright century charm Chaucer child contemporaries dead death delight doth dream Dryden E. K. Chambers Elegy English Epistle Epitaph eyes Faerie Queene fair fame fancy feel fire flowers G. A. Aitken garden genius gentle grace hand heart Heaven Henry Vaughan Hesperides honour hope Hudibras Hymn Ibid imagination inspiration Jonson King Lady less light literary literature live Lord lover Lucasta Mark Akenside melody Muse nature never night noble Numbers o'er passion pity Poems poet poet's poetic poetry Pope praise readers Richard Crashaw Richard Lovelace rose shade Shakespeare shine sigh sing sleep smiles soft song Sonnets soul spirit stanzas star sweet tears tenderness thee theme thought verse voice weep wild William Pickering winds wings wonder writer
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Страница 77 - Death, be not proud, though some have called thee Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so; For those, whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow, Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me. From rest and sleep, which but thy...
Страница 50 - When to the sessions of sweet silent thought I summon up remembrance of things past, I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought, And with old woes new wail my dear time's waste...
Страница 161 - Tell her that's young, And shuns to have her graces spied, That hadst thou sprung In deserts where no men abide, Thou must have uncommended died. Small is the worth Of beauty from the light retired ; Bid her come forth, Suffer herself to be desired, And not blush so to be admired. Then die, that she The common fate of all things rare May read in thee ; How small a part of time they share, That are so wondrous sweet and fair.
Страница 234 - Blest with each talent and each art to please, And born to write, converse, and live with ease: Should such a man, too fond to rule alone, Bear, like the Turk, no brother near the throne...
Страница 115 - Far from all resort of mirth, Save the cricket on the hearth, Or the bellman's drowsy charm To bless the doors from nightly harm. Or let my lamp at midnight hour Be seen in some high lonely tower...
Страница 178 - To ALTHEA FROM PRISON WHEN Love with unconfined wings Hovers within my gates, And my divine Althea brings To whisper at the grates ; When I lie tangled in her hair And fetter'd to her eye, The birds that wanton in the air Know no such liberty.
Страница 200 - He makes the figs our mouths to meet. And throws the melons at our feet; But apples plants of such a price, No tree could ever bear them twice...
Страница 110 - He that hath found some fledged bird's nest, may know At first sight if the bird be flown; But what fair well or grove he sings in now, That is to him unknown. And yet, as angels in some brighter dreams Call to the soul, when man doth sleep, So some strange thoughts transcend our wonted themes, And into glory peep.
Страница 51 - Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate: Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, And summer's lease hath all too short a date...
Страница 299 - In all my wanderings round this world of care, In all my griefs, — and God has given my share, — I still had hopes, my latest hours to crown, Amidst these humble bowers to lay me down ; To husband out life's taper at the close, And keep the flame from wasting by repose.