Kentish Poets: A Series of Writers in English Poetry, Natives of Or Residents in the County of Kent; with Specimens of Their Compositions, and Some Account of Their Lives and Writings, Томови 1-2G. Wood, 1821 |
Из књиге
Резултати 1-5 од 100
Страница vi
... light fresh to me : But since I climb'd the top bough of the tree , And sought to build my nest among the clouds , Each gentle stirring gale doth shake my bed , And make me dread my downfal to the earth . But whither doth contemplation ...
... light fresh to me : But since I climb'd the top bough of the tree , And sought to build my nest among the clouds , Each gentle stirring gale doth shake my bed , And make me dread my downfal to the earth . But whither doth contemplation ...
Страница xv
... light . Barnes . I have heard it told , that once a traveller Being in the hands of him that murdered him , Told him , the fern that then grew in the place , If nothing else , yet that would sure reveal him : And seven years after ...
... light . Barnes . I have heard it told , that once a traveller Being in the hands of him that murdered him , Told him , the fern that then grew in the place , If nothing else , yet that would sure reveal him : And seven years after ...
Страница xviii
... light and trifling , he might reply , if there were not a tinge of vanity it , in the words of the poet , - " " neque semper arcum Tendit APOLLO : " . he has , however , another quotation at hand , XVIII INTRODUCTION .
... light and trifling , he might reply , if there were not a tinge of vanity it , in the words of the poet , - " " neque semper arcum Tendit APOLLO : " . he has , however , another quotation at hand , XVIII INTRODUCTION .
Страница 51
... light shone on the earth apace : That while they brought about the nightis chair , * The dark had dimmed the day ... Lights . That , musing on this worldly wealth in thought , THOMAS SACKVILLE , EARL OF DORSET . 51.
... light shone on the earth apace : That while they brought about the nightis chair , * The dark had dimmed the day ... Lights . That , musing on this worldly wealth in thought , THOMAS SACKVILLE , EARL OF DORSET . 51.
Страница 56
... light even peeping in our eyes , Than he is up , and to his work y - run ; But let the night's black misty mantles rise , And with foul dark never so much disguise The fair bright day , yet ceaseth he no while , But hath his candles to ...
... light even peeping in our eyes , Than he is up , and to his work y - run ; But let the night's black misty mantles rise , And with foul dark never so much disguise The fair bright day , yet ceaseth he no while , But hath his candles to ...
Друга издања - Прикажи све
Kentish Poets. a Series of Writers in English Poetry, Natives of Or ... Rowland Freeman Приказ није доступан - 2016 |
Чести термини и фразе
Albertus Morton appear beauty born breast bright Canterbury character charms court dear death delight divine dost doth dread Duncombe Earl earth Eclogues ev'ry eyes fair fame fear flame flowers gentle Gentleman's Magazine Giles Fletcher give grace grief groves hand happy hast hath Hawkesworth heart heaven honour John Duncombe John Lilly Kent Kentish King lady learned light live Lord lyre majesty mind muse never Nicholas Amhurst night nymphs o'er pain passion peace Phineas Fletcher plain poem poet poetical poetry pow'r praise pride Queen reign sacred shade shepherds shew shine sighs sight sing Sir Henry Wotton Sir Philip Sidney Sir Thomas Wyatt smile soft song Sonnet soon soul stanza swain sweet tears thee thine thing Thirsil thou thought translation unto verse virtue whilst winds wings writer youth
Популарни одломци
Страница 192 - Come on, sir; here's the place: — stand still. — How fearful And dizzy 'tis, to cast one's eyes so low! The crows, and choughs, that wing the midway air, Show scarce so gross as beetles : Half way down Hangs one that gathers samphire; dreadful trade! Methinks, he seems no bigger than his head: The fishermen, that walk upon the beach, Appear like mice; and yon...
Страница 249 - How happy is he born and taught That serveth not another's will, Whose armour is his honest thought, And simple truth his utmost skill!
Страница 61 - Stone walls do not a prison make, Nor iron bars a cage; Minds innocent and quiet take That for an hermitage; If I have freedom in my love And in my soul am free, Angels alone, that soar above, Enjoy such liberty.
Страница 23 - And wilt thou leave me thus ? Say nay ! say nay ! And wilt thou leave me thus, That hath loved thee so long In wealth and woe among : And is thy heart so strong As for to leave me thus ? Say nay ! say nay...
Страница 147 - Shepherds, weep no more ! For Lycidas, your sorrow, is not dead, Sunk though he be beneath the watery floor. So sinks the day-star in the ocean bed, And yet anon repairs his drooping head, And tricks his beams, and with new-spangled ore Flames in the forehead of the morning sky...
Страница 184 - At cards for kisses — Cupid paid; He stakes his quiver, bow and arrows, His mother's doves, and team of sparrows; Loses them too; then down he throws The coral of his lip, the rose Growing on's cheek (but none knows how), With these, the crystal of his brow, And then the dimple of his chin; All these did my Campaspe win. At last he set her both his eyes, She won, and Cupid blind did rise. O Love! has she done this to thee? What shall, alas! become of me? THE SONGS OF BIRDS What bird so sings, yet...
Страница 21 - Now cease, my lute, this is the last Labour, that thou and I shall waste; And ended is that we begun : Now is this song both sung and past; My lute, be still, for I have done.
Страница 250 - Whose armour is his honest thought And simple truth his utmost skill! Whose passions not his masters...
Страница 246 - Nature seem'd in love: The lusty sap began to move; Fresh juice did stir th' embracing vines, And birds had drawn their valentines, The jealous Trout, that low did lie, Rose at a well dissembled fly; There stood my friend with patient skill, Attending of his trembling quill.
Страница 215 - ... the wood, That warble forth Dame Nature's lays, Thinking your passions understood By your weak accents; what's your praise, When Philomel her voice shall raise? You violets that first appear, By your pure purple mantles known Like the proud virgins of the year, As if the spring were all your own, What are you, when the Rose is blown? So when my Mistress shall be seen In form and beauty of her mind, By virtue first, then choice, a Queen, Tell me, if she were not designed Th' eclipse and glory...