Palgrave's Golden Treasury of Songs and Lyrics: Book first (Elizabethan period).

Предња корица
Macmillan and Company, Limited, 1921 - 142 страница
0 Рецензије
Google не верификује рецензије, али проверава и уклања лажни садржај када га идентификује
 

Шта други кажу - Напишите рецензију

Нисмо пронашли ниједну рецензију на уобичајеним местима.

Друга издања - Прикажи све

Чести термини и фразе

Популарни одломци

Страница 10 - TO me, fair friend, you never can be old, For as you were when first your eye I eyed, Such seems your beauty still . Three winters cold Have from the forests shook three summers...
Страница 18 - Let me not to the marriage of true minds Admit impediments. Love is not love Which alters when it alteration finds, Or bends with the remover to remove : O, no ! it is an ever-fixed mark, That looks on tempests and is never shaken ; It is the star to every wandering bark, Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Страница 21 - That time of year thou mayst in me behold When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang Upon those boughs which shake against the cold, Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang. In me thou see'st the twilight of such day As after sunset fadeth in the west; Which by and by black night doth take away, Death's second self, that seals up all in rest.
Страница 7 - 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.
Страница 105 - The spinsters and the knitters in the sun, And the free maids that weave their thread with bones, Do use to chaunt it : it is silly sooth, And dallies with the innocence of love, Like the old age.
Страница 22 - Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore, So do our minutes hasten to their end ; Each changing place with that which goes before, In sequent toil all forwards do contend.
Страница 35 - 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. Not a flower, not a flower sweet, On my black coffin let there be strown...
Страница 59 - Not marble, nor the gilded monuments Of princes, shall out-live this powerful rhyme ; But you shall shine more bright in these contents Than unswept stone, besmear'd with sluttish time. When wasteful war shall statues overturn, And broils root out the work of masonry, Nor Mars his sword, nor war's quick fire shall burn The living record of your memory.
Страница 27 - Since there's no help, come, let us kiss and part! Nay, I have done. You get no more of me! And I am glad, yea, glad with all my heart, That thus so cleanly I myself can free. Shake hands for ever! Cancel all our vows! And when we meet at any time again, Be it not seen in either of our brows That we one jot of former love retain.
Страница 64 - Fresh as the first beam glittering on a sail, That brings our friends up from the underworld, Sad as the last which reddens over one That sinks with all we love below the verge ; So sad, so fresh, the days that are no more.

Библиографски подаци