The Way of Poetry |
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Página 62
I HAD A LITTLE PONY I HAD a little pony , His name was Dapple - gray , I lent
him to a lady , To ride a mile away ; She whipped him , she slashed him , She
rode him through the mire ; I would not lend my pony now For all the lady's hire .
I HAD A LITTLE PONY I HAD a little pony , His name was Dapple - gray , I lent
him to a lady , To ride a mile away ; She whipped him , she slashed him , She
rode him through the mire ; I would not lend my pony now For all the lady's hire .
Página 223
TO HIS LOVE 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 ...
TO HIS LOVE 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 ...
Página 224
And who but my Lady Greensleeves ! Thy smock of silk , both fair and white , With
gold embroidered gorgeously ; Thy petticoat of sendal right : And these I bought
thee gladly . Greensleeves was all my joy ! Greensleeves was my delight !
And who but my Lady Greensleeves ! Thy smock of silk , both fair and white , With
gold embroidered gorgeously ; Thy petticoat of sendal right : And these I bought
thee gladly . Greensleeves was all my joy ! Greensleeves was my delight !
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Contenido
Editors Introduction | 15 |
My Lady Greensleeves | 28 |
From Songs of Innocence William Blake | 29 |
Otras 31 secciones no mostradas
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Términos y frases comunes
bells beneath beside birds blue boys breath bright cold cries dance dark dead dear death deep doth dream earth eyes fair fall father fear fields flowers give gold golden gone grave gray green grow hair hand happy hath head hear heard heart Heaven Heigho hill hope hour JOHN keep kind King Lady land laugh leaves lies light live looks Lord maid merry mind moon morning never night o'er once pass pipe play pleasure poem poet poetry poor rats rest Ring river ROBERT rose round Rowley says seen shade shine sing sleep smile snow song sound spring stand Street sweet tell thee thing THOMAS thou thought thousand tree turn voice wild wind wings wish wood