A Pageant of Elizabethan PoetryBlackie, 1906 - 412 páginas |
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Página 19
... kings , Sole comforter of minds with grief opprest ; Lo , by thy charming rod all breathing things Lie slumbering , with forgetfulness possest , And yet o'er me to spread thy drowsy wings Thou spares , alas ! who cannot be thy guest ...
... kings , Sole comforter of minds with grief opprest ; Lo , by thy charming rod all breathing things Lie slumbering , with forgetfulness possest , And yet o'er me to spread thy drowsy wings Thou spares , alas ! who cannot be thy guest ...
Página 22
... king , a king ! O , sweet content ! O , sweet , O , sweet content ! Work Honest labour bears a lovely face ; apace , apace , apace , apace ; Then hey nonny , hey nonny , nonny ! Dekker . 35 Ah , sweet Content , where is thy mild abode ...
... king , a king ! O , sweet content ! O , sweet , O , sweet content ! Work Honest labour bears a lovely face ; apace , apace , apace , apace ; Then hey nonny , hey nonny , nonny ! Dekker . 35 Ah , sweet Content , where is thy mild abode ...
Página 23
... king ; Then blooms each thing , then maids dance in a ring , Cold doth not sting , the pretty birds do sing , Cuckoo , jug - jug , pu - we , to - witta - woo ! The palm and may make country houses gay , Lambs frisk and play , the ...
... king ; Then blooms each thing , then maids dance in a ring , Cold doth not sting , the pretty birds do sing , Cuckoo , jug - jug , pu - we , to - witta - woo ! The palm and may make country houses gay , Lambs frisk and play , the ...
Página 30
... king . The lark , that tirra - lyra chants , With heigh ! with heigh ! the thrush and the jay , Are summer songs for me and my aunts , While we lie tumbling in the hay . Shakespeare . Under the greenwood tree Who loves to lie with me 30.
... king . The lark , that tirra - lyra chants , With heigh ! with heigh ! the thrush and the jay , Are summer songs for me and my aunts , While we lie tumbling in the hay . Shakespeare . Under the greenwood tree Who loves to lie with me 30.
Página 31
... king , Who now is coming forth with garland crowned . With noise whereof the choir of birds resounded , Their anthems sweet , devised of love's praise , That all the woods their echoes back rebounded , As if they knew the meaning of ...
... king , Who now is coming forth with garland crowned . With noise whereof the choir of birds resounded , Their anthems sweet , devised of love's praise , That all the woods their echoes back rebounded , As if they knew the meaning of ...
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Términos y frases comunes
Anonymous Barnabe Barnes beauty beauty's behold Ben Jonson birds breath bright bring Campion Carmela Charon Claia Corydon cuckoo Daffodil dead dear death delight desire Donne dost doth Drayton earth echo ring eyes fair Fairy fairy-queen fear flowers fools give gone grace grief hair hath hear heart heaven Heigh-ho Herrick Hey-ho honour Hymen King kiss leave light little boy live livës joy look love's lovers lullaby maids merry Mertilla mind ne'er never Nicholas Breton night numbers nymphs Oberon passion Perigot Perilla Philomel Phyllida Pigwiggen pleasure poem poor praise pretty Proserpina Queen Queen Mab quoth roses scorn Shakespeare shepherd shine Sidney sighs sight sing sleep smile song sonnets soul spring stay sweet tears tell thee thine things thou art thou hast thou shalt thoughts true love unto untrue Love wanton weep Whilst Willy wilt wind youth
Pasajes populares
Página 365 - 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...
Página 362 - ... the sun, Nor the furious winter's rages; Thou thy worldly task hast done, Home art gone, and ta'en thy wages: Golden lads and girls all must, As chimney-sweepers, come to dust. Fear no more the frown o' the great; Thou art past the tyrant's stroke; Care no more to clothe and eat; To thee the reed is as the oak : The sceptre, learning, physic, must All follow this, and come to dust.
Página 130 - When in the chronicle of wasted time I see descriptions of the fairest wights, And beauty making beautiful old rhyme, In praise of ladies dead, and lovely knights ; Then, in the blazon of sweet beauty's best, Of hand, of foot, of lip, of eye, of brow, I see their antique pen would have express'd Even such a beauty as you master now.
Página 355 - O, for my sake do you with Fortune chide, The guilty goddess of my harmful deeds, That did not better for my life provide Than public means which public manners breeds. Thence comes it that my name receives a brand, And almost thence my nature is subdued To what it works in, like the dyer's hand...
Página 342 - They that have power to hurt and will do none,' That do not do the thing they most do show, Who, moving others, are themselves as stone, Unmoved, cold, and to temptation slow, They rightly do inherit heaven's graces And husband nature's riches from expense ; They are the lords and owners of their faces, Others but stewards of their excellence.
Página 242 - come let us kiss and part, — Nay I have done, you get no more of me; And I am glad, yea, glad with all my heart, That thus so cleanly I myself can free...
Página 35 - When shepherds pipe on oaten straws, And merry larks are ploughmen's clocks, When turtles tread, and rooks, and daws, And maidens bleach their summer smocks, The cuckoo then, on every tree, Mocks married men, for thus sings he, Cuckoo ; Cuckoo, cuckoo...
Página 223 - Past reason hated, as a swallow'd bait On purpose laid to make the taker mad; Mad in pursuit, and in possession so; Had, having, and in quest...
Página 147 - Still to be neat, still to be drest, As you were going to a feast ; Still to be powdered, still perfumed : Lady, it is to be presumed, Though art's hid causes are not found, All is not sweet, all is not sound. Give me a look, give me a face, That makes simplicity a grace : Robes loosely flowing, hair as free : Such sweet neglect more taketh me, Than all the adulteries of art ; They strike mine eyes, but not my heart.
Página 23 - SPRING, the sweet Spring, is the year's pleasant king; Then blooms each thing, then maids dance in a ring, Cold doth not sting, the pretty birds do sing, Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo ! The palm and may make country houses gay, Lambs frisk and play, the shepherds pipe all day.