Prison Books and Their AuthorsW. Tegg, 1861 - 357 sider |
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Side 3
... " Striking a deeper chord the deeper chord the great Goethe fings— " Who never ate his bread with tears , Who never through night's gloomy hours * Poems by Henry Sutton . Weeping fat upon his bed , — He knows you B 2 Introduction . 3.
... " Striking a deeper chord the deeper chord the great Goethe fings— " Who never ate his bread with tears , Who never through night's gloomy hours * Poems by Henry Sutton . Weeping fat upon his bed , — He knows you B 2 Introduction . 3.
Side 37
... night This made me with a reckless breast , To wake thy fluggards with my bow : A figure of the Lord's beheft , Whofe fcourge for fin the Scriptures fhew . That as the fearful thunder's clap By fudden flame at hand we know ; Of pebble ...
... night This made me with a reckless breast , To wake thy fluggards with my bow : A figure of the Lord's beheft , Whofe fcourge for fin the Scriptures fhew . That as the fearful thunder's clap By fudden flame at hand we know ; Of pebble ...
Side 42
... night : Wherewith , alas ! reviveth in my breast The sweet accord , fuch fleeps as yet delight ; The pleasant dreams , the quiet bed of rest ; The fecret thoughts , imparted with fuch truft ; The wanton talk , the divers change of play ...
... night : Wherewith , alas ! reviveth in my breast The sweet accord , fuch fleeps as yet delight ; The pleasant dreams , the quiet bed of rest ; The fecret thoughts , imparted with fuch truft ; The wanton talk , the divers change of play ...
Side 43
John Alfred Langford. Whom in thy walls thou dost each night enclose ; To other lief ; but unto me most dear ! ' Echo , alas ! that doth my forrow rue , Returns thereto a hollow found of plaint . Thus I , alone , where all my freedom ...
John Alfred Langford. Whom in thy walls thou dost each night enclose ; To other lief ; but unto me most dear ! ' Echo , alas ! that doth my forrow rue , Returns thereto a hollow found of plaint . Thus I , alone , where all my freedom ...
Side 47
... night , about their mother's fides . And when they have fung more besides , Then fall they to their mother's breast , Whereas they feed , or take their rest . The hunter then founds out his horn , And rangeth straight through wood and ...
... night , about their mother's fides . And when they have fung more besides , Then fall they to their mother's breast , Whereas they feed , or take their rest . The hunter then founds out his horn , And rangeth straight through wood and ...
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Æneid againſt alfo almoſt alſo anſwer beauty becauſe beſt bleffed Boëthius breaſt Bunyan cauſe Cervantes Chriſtian courſe death defire Don Quixote doth Engliſh eyes faid faith fame fatire fays feemed fentence fervice feven fhall fhow fing firſt fome fong foon forrow foul ftill ftrength fubject fuch fuffering fure greateſt hath heart himſelf hiſtory honour houſe itſelf John Bunyan laft laſt Leigh Hunt liberty live Lord Lovelace maſter mind moft moſt mufic muſt myſelf never night noble paffage paffed perfecution perfon philofopher pleaſant pleaſure poem poet poetry praiſe preſent priſon publiſhed puniſhment Purgatory of Suicides queſtion raiſe Raleigh reſpect Richard Lovelace Robert Southwell ſaid ſay ſcarcely ſee ſeems ſhall ſhe ſhould ſhow ſome Southwell Spain ſpeak ſpirit ſtate ſtill ſtrong ſuch Surrey ſweet thee thefe themſelves theſe things thofe thoſe thou thought thouſand uſed verſe whofe whoſe wife
Populære passager
Side 73 - Under a star-y-pointing pyramid ? Dear son of memory, great heir of fame, What need'st thou such weak witness of thy name ? Thou in our wonder and astonishment Hast built thyself a live-long monument.
Side 104 - EVEN such is time, that takes in trust Our youth, our joys, our all we have, And pays us but with earth and dust; Who, in the dark and silent grave, When we have wandered all our ways, Shuts up the story of our days; But from this earth, this grave, this dust, My God shall raise me up, I trust!
Side 48 - The turtle to her make hath told her tale. Summer is come, for every spray now springs: The hart hath hung his old head on the pale; The buck in brake his winter coat he flings; The fishes flete with new repaired scale.
Side 178 - I how great she be ? Great, or good, or kind, or fair, I will ne'er the more despair ; If she love me, this believe, I will die ere she shall grieve : If she slight me when I woo, I can scorn and let her go; For if she be not for me, What care I for whom she be...
Side 204 - 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 25 - Where falls not hail, or rain, or any snow. Nor ever wind blows loudly; but it lies Deep-meadowed, happy, fair with orchard lawns And bowery hollows crowned with summer sea, Where I will heal me of my grievous wound.
Side 119 - We have left it flourishing in the middle of the field, having rooted up, or cut down, all that kept it from the eyes and admiration of the world: but after some continuance it shall begin to lose the beauty it had; the storms of ambition shall beat her great boughs and branches one against another; her leaves shall fall off, her limbs wither, and a rabble of barbarous nations enter the field and cut her down.
Side 147 - ... not with rage, While fury's flame doth burn ; It is in vain to stop the stream, Until the tide doth turn. But when the flame is out, And ebbing wrath doth end, I turn a late enraged foe Into a quiet friend.
Side 102 - Then being asked which way he would lay himself on the block, he answered, " So the heart be right, it is no matter which way the head lies.
Side 331 - The Count my lover is brave as brave can be; He surely would do wondrous things to show his love of me; King, ladies, lovers, all look on; the occasion is divine; I'll drop my glove, to prove his love; great glory will be mine.