English LyricsKegan Paul, Trench & Company, 1883 - 296 sider |
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Side 3
... never meant amiss . Forget not yet ! Forget not then thine own approved , The which so long hath thee so loved , Whose steadfast faith yet never moved : Forget not this ! III . HENRY HOWARD , EARL OF SURREY , 1517-1547- SIR THOMAS WYATT .
... never meant amiss . Forget not yet ! Forget not then thine own approved , The which so long hath thee so loved , Whose steadfast faith yet never moved : Forget not this ! III . HENRY HOWARD , EARL OF SURREY , 1517-1547- SIR THOMAS WYATT .
Side 9
... thee keep in memory , And when my feet had gone so soft To find and have thy company , I would each hand a foot had been , And eke each foot a hand so seen . And when in mind I did consent To follow thus my fancy's will , And when my ...
... thee keep in memory , And when my feet had gone so soft To find and have thy company , I would each hand a foot had been , And eke each foot a hand so seen . And when in mind I did consent To follow thus my fancy's will , And when my ...
Side 15
... thee for grace ; See not thy loving shepherd slain , With looking on thy face . But think what power thou hast got , Upon my flock and me ; Thou seest they now regard me not , But all do follow thee . And if I have so far presum'd ...
... thee for grace ; See not thy loving shepherd slain , With looking on thy face . But think what power thou hast got , Upon my flock and me ; Thou seest they now regard me not , But all do follow thee . And if I have so far presum'd ...
Side 16
... thee ; Yet let me know thou dost not scorn To cast a look on me . But if thy beauty make thee proud , Think then what is ordain'd ; The heavens have never yet allow'd That Love should be disdain'd . Then lest the fates that favour Love ...
... thee ; Yet let me know thou dost not scorn To cast a look on me . But if thy beauty make thee proud , Think then what is ordain'd ; The heavens have never yet allow'd That Love should be disdain'd . Then lest the fates that favour Love ...
Side 19
... thee shew to me thy name ! My name is fond Desire . When wert thou born , Desire ? In pomp and prime of May . By whom , sweet boy , wert thou begot ? By fond Conceit , men say . Tell me , who was thy nurse ? Fresh youth in sugared joy ...
... thee shew to me thy name ! My name is fond Desire . When wert thou born , Desire ? In pomp and prime of May . By whom , sweet boy , wert thou begot ? By fond Conceit , men say . Tell me , who was thy nurse ? Fresh youth in sugared joy ...
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Almindelige termer og sætninger
adieu Love Anthony Wood beauty BEN JONSON best fits birds blow bosom breast breath bright brow cold County Guy Cynthia's Revels dead infected dear death delight doth earth England's Helicon eyes fair Samela fancy fear fire fits a little flowers Forget friends GEORGE GASCOIGNE give gone grave hath heart heaven holly Honour lady leaves live look Love is dead Love's lovers lulla lullaby lyric mourn ne'er never NICHOLAS BRETON night numbers o'er old familiar faces pain peace Phillada flouts Phillis pity pleasure poem Queen rage of wind ROBERT SOUTHWELL roses scorn shepherd shine sighs sight sing sleep smile SONG sorrow soul spring stars sweet tears tell thee thine things THOMAS DEKKER thou art thou dost Thou hast thought toil tomb tree ULYSSES unto untrue Love verse waking eye wanton waves weep wert winds youth
Populære passager
Side 120 - THE glories of our blood and state Are shadows, not substantial things ; There is no armour against Fate ; Death lays his icy hand on kings : Sceptre and Crown Must tumble down, And in the dust be equal made With the poor crooked scythe and spade.
Side 186 - SHE was a phantom of delight When first she gleamed upon my sight ; A lovely apparition, sent To be a moment's ornament : Her eyes as stars of twilight fair ; Like twilight's too her dusky hair ; But all things else about her drawn From May-time and the cheerful dawn ; A dancing shape, an image gay, To haunt, to startle, and way-lay.
Side 224 - And smoothed down his lonely pillow, That the foe and the stranger would tread o'er his head; And we far away on the billow! Lightly they'll talk of the spirit that's gone, And o'er his cold ashes upbraid him; But little he'll reck; if they let him sleep on In the grave where a Briton has laid him.
Side 66 - A HYMN TO GOD THE FATHER. W PILT Thou forgive that sin where I begun, Which was my sin, though it were done before ? Wilt Thou forgive that sin, through which I run And do run still, though still I do deplore ? When Thou hast done, Thou hast not done ; For I have more.
Side 136 - Going to the Wars TELL me not, Sweet, I am unkind, That from the nunnery Of thy chaste breast, and quiet mind, To war and arms I fly. True; a new mistress now I chase, The first foe in the field; And with a stronger faith embrace A sword, a horse, a shield. Yet this inconstancy is such, As you too shall adore; I could not love thee, dear, so much, Loved I not honour more.
Side 57 - Come away, come away, death, And in sad cypress let me be laid ; Fly away, fly away, breath ; I am slain by a fair cruel maid. My shroud of white, stuck all with yew, O, prepare it ! My part of death, no one so true Did share it. Not a flower, not a flower sweet, On my black coffin let there be strown...
Side 69 - QUEEN and huntress, chaste and fair, Now the sun is laid to sleep, Seated in thy silver chair, State in wonted manner keep: Hesperus entreats thy light, Goddess, excellently bright! Earth, let not thy envious shade Dare itself to interpose: Cynthia's shining orb was made Heaven to clear when day did close: Bless us then with wished sight, Goddess, excellently bright!
Side 116 - SWEET day, so cool, so calm, so bright, The bridal of the earth and sky, The dew shall weep thy fall to-night ; For thou must die.
Side 216 - She walks in beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies; And all that's best of dark and bright Meet in her aspect and her eyes: Thus mellow'd to that tender light Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
Side 81 - Every thing did banish moan, Save the nightingale alone : She, poor bird, as all forlorn, Lean'd her breast up-till a thorn, And there sung the dolefull'st ditty, That to hear it was great pity : 'Fie, fie, fie...