An Anthology of the Poetry of the Age of ShakespeareUniversity Press, 1923 - 307 sider |
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Astrophel and Stella bear beauty BEN JONSON birds bliss brave breath bright Coridon Cynthia's Revels dead dear death delight doth DRAYTON EARL OF SURREY earth eccho ring EDMUND SPENSER England's Helicon eyes face fair faith Faithful Shepherdess fayre fear fire FLETCHER flowers folio FULKE GREVILLE give glory golden grace green hand hath hear heart heaven heavenly Heigh honour Hymen JONSON king kiss Lady leave light live look Love's lovers lullaby lute lyke maid mind Muse never Nice Valour night nought numbers Nymph Orph pain Patient Grissell peace Phoebus pleasure Poems praise Queen RICHARD BARNFIELD rose scorn SHAKESPEARE shepherd shine SIDNEY sigh sight sing sleep song Sonnets sorrow soul SPENSER spring stars sweet tears tell thee theyr thine thing thou art thoughts unto vex'd wanton weep Whilst wind wings woods youth
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Side 97 - 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.
Side 96 - It was a lover and his lass, With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino, That o'er the green corn-field did pass In the spring time, the only pretty ring time, When birds do sing, hey ding a ding, ding : Sweet lovers love the spring.
Side 92 - 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...
Side 111 - 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. Lay thy bow of pearl apart And thy crystal-shining quiver; Give unto the flying hart Space to breathe, how short soever: Thou that mak'st...
Side 158 - 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 23 - Thy gowns, thy shoes, thy beds of roses, Thy cap, thy kirtle, and thy posies, Soon break, soon wither, soon forgotten,— In folly ripe, in reason rotten. Thy belt of straw and ivy buds, Thy coral clasps and amber studs,— All these in me no means can move To come to thee and be thy love.
Side 148 - HENCE, all you vain delights, As short as are the nights Wherein you spend your folly ! There's nought in this life sweet, If man were wise to see't, But only melancholy ; Oh ! sweetest melancholy. Welcome, folded arms, and fixed eyes, A sigh that piercing mortifies, A look that's fastened to the ground, A tongue chained up, without a sound...
Side 101 - 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.
Side 96 - Blow, blow, thou winter wind, Thou art not so unkind As man's ingratitude ; Thy tooth is not so keen, Because thou art not seen, Although thy breath be rude.