The Love Poems of John Donne: Selected and Ed. by Charles Eliot Norton

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Houghton, Mifflin, 1905 - 85 páginas

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Página 61 - Song Sweetest love, I do not go For weariness of thee, Nor in hope the world can show A fitter love for me...
Página 4 - Song Go, and catch a falling star, Get with child a mandrake root, Tell me, where all past years are, Or who cleft the Devil's foot, Teach me to hear mermaids singing, Or to keep off envy's stinging, And find What wind Serves to advance an honest mind.
Página 5 - Though she were true, when you met her, And last, till you write your letter, Yet she Will be False, ere I come, to two, or three.
Página 78 - twas of my mind, seizing thee, Though it in thee cannot persever. For I had rather owner be Of thee one hour, than all else ever.
Página 12 - And that vice-nature, custom, lets it be, I must love her that loves not me. Sure, they which made him god, meant not so much, Nor he in his young godhead practiced it.
Página 4 - Teach me to hear mermaids singing, Or to keep off envy's stinging, And find What wind Serves to advance an honest mind. If thou be'st born to strange sights, Things invisible to see, Ride ten thousand days and nights, Till age snow white hairs on thee, Thou, when thou return'st, wilt tell me All strange wonders that befell thee, And swear No where Lives a woman true, and fair.
Página 22 - Come, live with me, and be my love, And we will some new pleasures prove, Of golden sands, and crystal brooks, With silken lines, and silver hooks.
Página viii - To read Dryden, Pope, &c. you need only count syllables ; but to read Donne you must measure time, and discover the time of each word by the sense and passion.
Página 45 - twixt her and me. And whilst our souls negotiate there, We like sepulchral statues lay; All day, the same our postures were, And we said nothing, all the day.
Página 75 - Mourning As virtuous men pass mildly away, And whisper to their souls to go, Whilst some of their sad friends do say 'The breath goes now,' and some say 'No'; So let us melt, and make no noise, No tear-floods nor sigh-tempests move; 'Twere profanation of our joys To tell the laity our love. Moving of th...

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