The Golden Treasury of the Best Songs and Lyrical Poems in the English Language |
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III 2 Come unto these yellow sands , And then take hands : Courtsied when you have , and kiss'd The wild waves whist , Foot it featly here and there ; And , sweet Sprites , the burthen bear . Hark , hark ! Bow - bow .
III 2 Come unto these yellow sands , And then take hands : Courtsied when you have , and kiss'd The wild waves whist , Foot it featly here and there ; And , sweet Sprites , the burthen bear . Hark , hark ! Bow - bow .
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V TIME AND LOVE I When I have seen by Time's fell hand defaced The rich proud cost of out - worn buried age ; When sometime lofty towers I see down - razed , And brass eternal slave to mortal rage ; When I have seen the hungry ocean ...
V TIME AND LOVE I When I have seen by Time's fell hand defaced The rich proud cost of out - worn buried age ; When sometime lofty towers I see down - razed , And brass eternal slave to mortal rage ; When I have seen the hungry ocean ...
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... in three hot Junes burn'd , Since first I saw you fresh , which yet are green . Ah ! yet doth beauty , like a dial - hand , Steal from his figure , and no pace perceived ; So your sweet hue , which methinks still doth stand First II.
... in three hot Junes burn'd , Since first I saw you fresh , which yet are green . Ah ! yet doth beauty , like a dial - hand , Steal from his figure , and no pace perceived ; So your sweet hue , which methinks still doth stand First II.
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In praise of ladies dead , and lovely knights ; Then in the blazon of sweet beauty's best Of hand , of foot , of lip , of eye , of brow , I see their antique pen would have exprest Ev'n such a beauty as you master now .
In praise of ladies dead , and lovely knights ; Then in the blazon of sweet beauty's best Of hand , of foot , of lip , of eye , of brow , I see their antique pen would have exprest Ev'n such a beauty as you master now .
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But , alack , my hand is sworn Ne'er to pluck thee from thy thorn : Vow , alack , for youth unmeet ; Youth so apt to pluck a sweet . Do not call it sin in me That I am forsworn for thee : Thou for whom Jove would swear Juno ...
But , alack , my hand is sworn Ne'er to pluck thee from thy thorn : Vow , alack , for youth unmeet ; Youth so apt to pluck a sweet . Do not call it sin in me That I am forsworn for thee : Thou for whom Jove would swear Juno ...
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Arethuse beauty beneath birds bonnie bower breast breath bright Brignall brow cheek clouds County Guy dark dead dear death deep delight dost doth dream earth ELIZABETH OF BOHEMIA eyes F. T. PALGRAVE fair Fancy fear flowers frae FRANCIS TURNER PALGRAVE gentle glory golden Gray green H. F. Lyte happy hast hath hear heard heart heaven hill kiss leaves light live look'd Lord Lord Byron Love's Lycidas lyre LYRICAL maid mind morn mountains Muse ne'er never night Nymph o'er P. B. Shelley pale passion Pindar pleasure poem Poetry poets rose round seem'd shade Shakespeare sigh silent sing sleep smile soft song sorrow soul sound spirit Spring star stream sweet tears tell thee There's thine thou art thought tree Twas voice waly waly waves weep white-thorn wild winds wings Wordsworth Yarrow youth