Treasury of Minor British Poetry: Selected and Arranged with NotesArnold, 1896 - 419 pàgines |
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Resultats 1 - 5 de 76.
Pàgina 14
... night Underneath my window playneth ? " It is one who from thy sight Being , ah , exil'd , disdayneth Every other vulgar light . " Why , alas , and are you he ? Be not yet those fancies changed ? " Deare , when you find change in me ...
... night Underneath my window playneth ? " It is one who from thy sight Being , ah , exil'd , disdayneth Every other vulgar light . " Why , alas , and are you he ? Be not yet those fancies changed ? " Deare , when you find change in me ...
Pàgina 19
... night did lie , Would change her face and look much younger . But they shall not so ; Hey nonny , nonny no ! None but I this life must owe ; Hey nonny , nonny no ! XIX T. MIDDLETON . SONG LOVE , a childe , is ever crying ; Please him ...
... night did lie , Would change her face and look much younger . But they shall not so ; Hey nonny , nonny no ! None but I this life must owe ; Hey nonny , nonny no ! XIX T. MIDDLETON . SONG LOVE , a childe , is ever crying ; Please him ...
Pàgina 30
... night we banish sorrow , Sweete ayre , blow soft , mount , Larke , aloft , To give my love good morrow . Winges from the winde , to please her minde , Notes from the Lark I'll borrow ; Bird , prune thy wing , nightingale , sing , To ...
... night we banish sorrow , Sweete ayre , blow soft , mount , Larke , aloft , To give my love good morrow . Winges from the winde , to please her minde , Notes from the Lark I'll borrow ; Bird , prune thy wing , nightingale , sing , To ...
Pàgina 36
... nights and days Sounds your praise ; Pity me , my fault confessing . Or , if I may not desire , That your ire May with penance be suspended ; Yet let me full pardon crave , When I have With soon death my fault amended . F. DAVISON ...
... nights and days Sounds your praise ; Pity me , my fault confessing . Or , if I may not desire , That your ire May with penance be suspended ; Yet let me full pardon crave , When I have With soon death my fault amended . F. DAVISON ...
Pàgina 41
... , And yet he robs me of my rest . Ah , wanton , will ye ? And if I sleepe , then percheth he With pretty flight : And makes his pillow of my knee The live - long night . 4I Strike I my lute , he tunes the string , OF MINOR BRITISH POETRY.
... , And yet he robs me of my rest . Ah , wanton , will ye ? And if I sleepe , then percheth he With pretty flight : And makes his pillow of my knee The live - long night . 4I Strike I my lute , he tunes the string , OF MINOR BRITISH POETRY.
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Treasury of Minor British Poetry: Selected and Arranged with Notes John Churton Collins Visualització completa - 1896 |
Treasury of Minor British Poetry: Selected and Arranged with Notes John Churton Collins Visualització completa - 1896 |
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A. H. Bullen A. H. CLOUGH ANON Author beautiful Behave yoursel Ben Jonson birds bliss blow breath bright C. S. CALVERLEY Castara charming cloth collection Crown 8vo dark dear death delight Demy 8vo died doth DOUGLAS FAWCETT dreams earth edition Edward Arnold's List EMILY BRONTË England's Helicon EPITAPH ev'ry eyes fair fear flowers frae give grace grave green hame happy hath heart heaven hope hour KIRK MUNROE kiss Large crown 8vo life's light live LLOYD MORGAN Lord lullaby MARY LEAPOR mind ne'er never night numbers o'er pain pleasure poem poetry poets rose shade shine sigh sing sleep smile song sonnet sorrow soul spirit Spring stanzas sweet tears tell thee thine things thou art Thou hast thought verses volume W. G. COLLINGWOOD weep wind youth
Passatges populars
Pàgina 69 - DEATH, be not proud, though some have called thee Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so; For those whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow Die not, poor Death: nor yet canst thou kill me. From rest and sleep, which but thy picture be, Much pleasure; then from thee much more must flow; And soonest our best men with thee do go — Rest of their bones and souls
Pàgina 110 - What wondrous life is this I lead! Ripe apples drop about my head; The luscious clusters of the vine Upon my mouth do crush their wine; The nectarine and curious peach Into my hands themselves do reach; Stumbling on melons, as I pass, Ensnared with flowers, I fall on grass.
Pàgina 87 - The grave's a fine and private place, But none, I think, do there embrace. Now therefore, while the youthful hue Sits on thy skin like morning dew, And while thy willing soul transpires At every pore with instant fires...
Pàgina 282 - Mysterious Night ! when our first Parent knew Thee from report divine, and heard thy name, Did he not tremble for this lovely frame, This glorious canopy of light and blue ? Yet 'neath a curtain of translucent dew, Bathed in the rays of the great setting flame, Hesperus with the host of heaven came; And lo, Creation widened in man's view.
Pàgina 235 - To Mercy, Pity, Peace, and Love All pray in their distress; And to these virtues of delight Return their thankfulness. For Mercy, Pity, Peace, and Love Is God, our Father dear, And Mercy, Pity, Peace, and Love Is man, his child and care. For Mercy has a human heart, Pity, a human face, And Love, the human form divine, And Peace, the human dress.
Pàgina 57 - Say to the court it glows And shines like rotten wood; Say to the church, it shows What's good, and doth no good: If church and court reply, Then give them both the lie. Tell potentates, they live Acting by others' action, Not lov'd unless they give, Not strong but by affection: If potentates reply, Give potentates the lie.
Pàgina 234 - Life ! we've been long together Through pleasant and through cloudy weather; 'Tis hard. to part when friends are dear — Perhaps 'twill cost a sigh, a tear; — Then steal away, give little warning, Choose thine own time; Say not Good Night, — but in some brighter clime Bid me Good Morning.
Pàgina 352 - COLD in the earth, and the deep snow piled above thee ; Far, far removed, cold in the dreary grave ! Have I forgot, my only love, to love thee, Severed at last by time's all-severing wave ? Now, when alone, do my thoughts no longer hover Over the mountains, on that northern shore...
Pàgina 334 - For while the tired waves, vainly breaking, Seem here no painful inch to gain, Far back, through creeks and inlets making, Comes silent, flooding in, the main. And not by eastern windows only, When daylight comes, comes in the light; In front, the sun climbs slow, how slowly, But westward, look, the land is bright.
Pàgina 85 - Had we but world enough, and time, This coyness, lady, were no crime. We would sit down and think which way To walk, and pass our long love's day; Thou by the Indian Ganges' side Shouldst rubies find; I by the tide Of Humber would complain. I would Love you ten years before the Flood; And you should, if you please, refuse Till the conversion of the Jews.