Specimens of the early English poets [ed. by G. Ellis.]. To which is prefixed an historical sketch of the rise and progress of the English poetry and language. By G. Ellis, Bind 31801 |
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Side 14
... poor wretch , Into this unhappy error : Which to plague , no tyrant's mind Pain can find Like my heart's self - guilty terror . Then , O then ! let that suffice , Your dear eyes Need not , need not more afflict me : Nor your sweet ...
... poor wretch , Into this unhappy error : Which to plague , no tyrant's mind Pain can find Like my heart's self - guilty terror . Then , O then ! let that suffice , Your dear eyes Need not , need not more afflict me : Nor your sweet ...
Side 47
... hills of snow That thy frozen bosom bears ; On whose tops the pinks that grow Are of those that April wears ; heart first set free , But my poor Bound in those icy chains by thee , SONG . [ In the Nice Valour . ] HENCE [ 47 ]
... hills of snow That thy frozen bosom bears ; On whose tops the pinks that grow Are of those that April wears ; heart first set free , But my poor Bound in those icy chains by thee , SONG . [ In the Nice Valour . ] HENCE [ 47 ]
Side 50
... poor " Tell me more , are women true ? " Yes , some are , and some as you . Some are willing , some are strange , Since you men first taught to change ; And till troth Be in both , All shall love , to love anew . " Tell me more yet ...
... poor " Tell me more , are women true ? " Yes , some are , and some as you . Some are willing , some are strange , Since you men first taught to change ; And till troth Be in both , All shall love , to love anew . " Tell me more yet ...
Side 52
... her sweet tongue , If these no other joys imply ? A golden gyve , a pleasing wrong . To be your own but one poor month , I'd give My youth , my fortune , and then leave to live . FRANCIS BEAUMONT . A CHARM . [ From his Poems [ 52 ]
... her sweet tongue , If these no other joys imply ? A golden gyve , a pleasing wrong . To be your own but one poor month , I'd give My youth , my fortune , and then leave to live . FRANCIS BEAUMONT . A CHARM . [ From his Poems [ 52 ]
Side 61
... poor man ; the Nimrod fierce is Death ; His speedy greyhounds are Lust , sickness , envy , care , Strife , that ne'er falls amiss , With all those ills that haunt us while we breathe . Now , if by chance we fly Of these the [ 61 ]
... poor man ; the Nimrod fierce is Death ; His speedy greyhounds are Lust , sickness , envy , care , Strife , that ne'er falls amiss , With all those ills that haunt us while we breathe . Now , if by chance we fly Of these the [ 61 ]
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Admet Anon Beaumont and Fletcher beauty beauty's birds blushing born breast breath Carew CASTARA Celia chaste cheek Chloris Corpus Christi College court Cupid dear death delight died disdain dost doth earth Edgar Atheling English eyes face fair fancy fate fear flame flowers folly Francis Beaumont grace Greensleeves grief happy haste hath hear heart heaven hope Isaac Walton JOHN COLLOP Julius Cæsar king kiss Laius language leave lips live lord lov'd love's lover maid melancholy mistress morn muse ne'er never night nymph o'er Oxford passion Phillis PHINEAS FLETCHER Picts pleasure poems poet poetry reign rose Saxon scorn Sedley Shakspeare shew sighs sing smile SONG SONNET sorrow soul specimen spring stanzas sweet taste tears tell thee thine thing thou art thought unto wanton Whilst Whitsun ale wind wings wouldest not love youth
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Side 225 - 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.
Side 23 - Sweet air blow soft, mount larks aloft To give my Love good-morrow ! Wings from the wind to please her mind Notes from the lark I'll borrow ; Bird prune thy wing, nightingale sing, To give my Love good-morrow ; To give my Love good-morrow Notes from them both I'll borrow.
Side 96 - 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 43 - Take, oh take those lips away, That so sweetly were forsworn; And those eyes, the break of day, Lights that do mislead the morn; But my kisses bring again, bring again, Seals of love, but seal'd in vain.
Side 198 - Why so pale and wan, fond lover? Prithee, why so pale? Will, when looking well can't move her, Looking ill prevail? Prithee, why so pale?
Side 180 - Now the bright morning star, day's harbinger, Comes dancing from the east, and leads with her The flowery May, who from her green lap throws The yellow cowslip, and the pale primrose. Hail, bounteous May, that dost inspire Mirth, and youth, and warm desire ; Woods and groves are of thy dressing, Hill and dale doth boast thy blessing. Thus we salute thee with our early song, And welcome thee, and wish thee long.
Side 129 - Ask me no more whither doth haste The nightingale when May is past, For in your sweet dividing throat She winters and keeps warm her note. Ask me no more where Jove bestows, When June is past, the fading rose, For in your beauty's orient deep These flowers as in their causes, sleep.
Side 56 - Cause I see a woman kind; Or a well disposed nature Joined with a lovely feature? Be she meeker, kinder, than Turtle-dove or pelican, If she be not so to me, What care I how kind she be?
Side 225 - When (like committed Linnets) I With shriller throat shall sing The sweetness, Mercy, Majesty, And glories of my King ; When I shall voice aloud, how Good He is, how Great should be ; Enlarged Winds that curl the Flood, Know no such Liberty.
Side 350 - scape, Rivals and Falsehood soon appear In a more dreadful shape. By such degrees to joy they come, And are so long withstood, So slowly they receive the sum, It hardly does them good. 'Tis cruel to prolong a pain; And to defer a joy, Believe me, gentle Celemene, Offends the winged boy.