Specimens of the Early English Poets: To which is Prefixed an Historical Sketch of the Rise and Progress of the English Poetry and Language, Volume 1 |
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Page 14
... care : They would see a course at an hare Rather than to make a sermon : To follow the chace of wild deer , Passing the time with jolly cheer , Among them all is common . 1 Perfect . Fr. To play at the cards and dice Some of them [ 14 ]
... care : They would see a course at an hare Rather than to make a sermon : To follow the chace of wild deer , Passing the time with jolly cheer , Among them all is common . 1 Perfect . Fr. To play at the cards and dice Some of them [ 14 ]
Page 23
... passes to the chrystalline and empyreal heavens , where he contemplates the throne of God ; shews him the three quarters of the earth ; and gives him a prospect of Paradise . As a contrast to these scenes of splendour , she next ...
... passes to the chrystalline and empyreal heavens , where he contemplates the throne of God ; shews him the three quarters of the earth ; and gives him a prospect of Paradise . As a contrast to these scenes of splendour , she next ...
Page 56
... pass In greater feasts 3 than Priam's sons of Troy : Where each sweet place returns a taste full sower ! ✦ The large green courts , where we were wont to hove , 5 With eyes cast up into the maiden's tower , And easy sighs , such as ...
... pass In greater feasts 3 than Priam's sons of Troy : Where each sweet place returns a taste full sower ! ✦ The large green courts , where we were wont to hove , 5 With eyes cast up into the maiden's tower , And easy sighs , such as ...
Page 69
... Nero stern , rigour extreme did kill . How could August so many years well pass ? Nor 1 over meek , nor over fierce he was . Water , strait . 1 Ed . 1567 , " so . " Worship not Jove with curious fancies vain , Nor him NICHOLAS GRIMOALD .
... Nero stern , rigour extreme did kill . How could August so many years well pass ? Nor 1 over meek , nor over fierce he was . Water , strait . 1 Ed . 1567 , " so . " Worship not Jove with curious fancies vain , Nor him NICHOLAS GRIMOALD .
Page 70
... pass the pain ; But of the deed the glory shall remain , And cause your name with worthy wights to reign . In working wrong , if pleasure you attain , The pleasure soon shall fade , and void as vain . But of the deed throughout the life ...
... pass the pain ; But of the deed the glory shall remain , And cause your name with worthy wights to reign . In working wrong , if pleasure you attain , The pleasure soon shall fade , and void as vain . But of the deed throughout the life ...
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Common terms and phrases
Astrophel and Stella beauty bird bliss born breast Chaucer cheer Christ's College court Cupid dainty dame dear death delight disdain doth E'en earl England's Helicon English eyes fair faith farewell favour fear flowers following specimens Gloss Gorboduc grace green Greensleeves grief hairs Harpalus hath heart heaven Henry VIII honour king kiss lady live look lord lov'd Love's lover lullaby lute mind mourning Muse never night nought Oxford pain pity poems poetical poetry poets praise prep printed pron Puttenham Queen reign scorn shepherd sighs sight sing Sir Philip Sidney Sir Thomas Wyatt Sith song SONNET soul summer queen sweet tears tell thee thine thing thou thought translated tree unto verse Vide Sibbald Warton wight wind wine Wood words worth marriage wouldest not love youth
Popular passages
Page 349 - 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.
Page 389 - I'll not look for wine. The thirst that from the soul doth rise Doth ask a drink divine; But might I of Jove's nectar sup, I would not change for thine. I sent thee late a rosy wreath, Not so much honouring thee As giving it a hope that there It could not withered be; But thou thereon didst only breathe And sent'st it back to me; Since when it grows, and smells, I swear, Not of itself but thee!
Page 352 - Being your slave, what should I do but tend Upon the hours and times of your desire? I have no precious time at all to spend, Nor services to do, till you require.
Page 351 - Fear no more the frown o' the great; Thou art past the tyrant's stroke; Care no more to clothe and eat; To thee the reed is as the oak : The sceptre, learning, physic, must All follow this, and come to dust.
Page 334 - Tell them that brave it most, They beg for more by spending, Who, in their greatest cost, Seek nothing but commending: And if they make reply Then give them all the lie.
Page 346 - Now the wasted brands do glow, Whilst the screech-owl, screeching loud, Puts the wretch that lies in woe In remembrance of a shroud. Now it is the time of night ' That the graves, all gaping wide, Every one lets forth his sprite, In the church-way paths to glide...
Page 220 - Time drives the flocks from field to fold, When Rivers rage, and Rocks grow cold, And Philomel becometh dumb, The rest complains of cares to come. The flowers do fade, and wanton fields, To wayward winter reckoning yields, A honey tongue, a heart of gall, Is fancy's spring, but sorrow's fall.
Page 388 - Come, my Celia, let us prove, While we can, the sports of love, Time will not be ours for ever, He, at length, our good will sever; Spend not then his gifts in vain; Suns, that set, may rise again ; . But if once we lose this light, 'Tis with us perpetual night.
Page 243 - CUPID and my Campaspe played 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...
Page 348 - Tell me where is fancy bred, Or in the heart or in the head ? How begot, how nourished? Reply, reply. It is engender'd in the eyes, With gazing fed ; and fancy dies In the cradle where it lies. Let us all ring fancy's knell : I'll begin it, — Ding, dong, bell ALL.