A Garland of Love, Wreathed of Pleasant Flowers, Gathered in the Field of English Poesy ... |
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Page 6
... play in it , as they pretende , But fynde contrary of it as they entende * . Alas ! of that sort may I be by right ; For to withstand her looke I am not able ; Yet can I not hyde me in no darke place , So foloweth me remembrance of that ...
... play in it , as they pretende , But fynde contrary of it as they entende * . Alas ! of that sort may I be by right ; For to withstand her looke I am not able ; Yet can I not hyde me in no darke place , So foloweth me remembrance of that ...
Page 35
... plays ; The ouzel shrills : the ruddock warbles soft ; So goodly all agree , with sweet concent , To this day's merriment . Ah ! my dear love , why do ye sleep thus long , When meeter ' t were that ye should now awake , T ' await the ...
... plays ; The ouzel shrills : the ruddock warbles soft ; So goodly all agree , with sweet concent , To this day's merriment . Ah ! my dear love , why do ye sleep thus long , When meeter ' t were that ye should now awake , T ' await the ...
Page 40
... play The praises of the Lord in lively notes ; The whilst , with hollow throats , The choristers the joyous anthem sing , That all the woods may answer , and their echo ring . CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE , Born 1562 , died 1592 . THE PASSIONATE ...
... play The praises of the Lord in lively notes ; The whilst , with hollow throats , The choristers the joyous anthem sing , That all the woods may answer , and their echo ring . CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE , Born 1562 , died 1592 . THE PASSIONATE ...
Page 57
... me ! Thou couldst desire no earthly thing , But still thou hadst it readily ; Thy music still to play and sing : And yet thou wouldst not love me ! * Aiglets ; aiguillette , a lace with tags . And who did pay for all this gear , That 57 ...
... me ! Thou couldst desire no earthly thing , But still thou hadst it readily ; Thy music still to play and sing : And yet thou wouldst not love me ! * Aiglets ; aiguillette , a lace with tags . And who did pay for all this gear , That 57 ...
Page 65
... subtle wits , Such palfreys play upon their bits . Fine heads , God knows , That plucke a nettle for a rose ! They meet their match , And fare the worse because they snatch . F We silly women can not rest For men that love ANONYMOUS . 65.
... subtle wits , Such palfreys play upon their bits . Fine heads , God knows , That plucke a nettle for a rose ! They meet their match , And fare the worse because they snatch . F We silly women can not rest For men that love ANONYMOUS . 65.
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A Garland of Love: Wreathed of Pleasant Flowers, Gathered in the Field of ... Garland Garland No preview available - 2015 |
Common terms and phrases
beauty Beauty's birds blush bonny Born bosom bower breast breath bright burning CASTARA charms cheek CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE County Guy Cupid death deep delight died doth dream Earl echo ring face fair fancy flame flowers frae garland gaze gentle GEORGE GASCOIGNE grace green Greensleeves grief grove harvest show hast hath hear heart heaven hope Hymen JAMES HOGG JOANNA BAILLIE kiss LADY LASSIE light lips live looks Love's lover maid mind morn ne'er Netherby never night nosegay nymph o'er odours paine passion pity PLATONIC LOVE pleasure posie praise rest rose shalt sigh sing Sir Thomas Wyatt sleep smile soft SONG SONNET sorrow soul spring sung sunne sweet tears tell thee thine eye thing THOMAS thou art thou wouldst thought thy love tongue trembling twas unto violet voice wanton weel weep whilst woods wouldst not love youth
Popular passages
Page 168 - ALL thoughts, all passions, all delights, Whatever stirs this mortal frame, All are but ministers of Love, And feed his sacred flame. Oft in my waking dreams do I Live o'er again that happy hour, When midway on the mount I lay, Beside the ruined tower.
Page 47 - A gown made of the finest wool, Which from our pretty lambs we pull, Fair lined slippers for the cold, With buckles of the purest gold. A belt of straw and ivy buds With coral clasps and amber studs : And if these pleasures may thee move, Come live with me and be my Love.
Page 79 - The rose looks fair, but fairer we it deem For that sweet odour, which doth in it live. The canker blooms have full as deep a dye As the perfumed tincture of the roses.
Page 164 - O, young Lochinvar is come out of the west. Through all the wide border his steed was the best ; And save his good broadsword, he weapons had none, He rode all unarm'd, and he rode all alone. So faithful in love, and so dauntless in war, There never was knight like the young Lochinvar.
Page 81 - Saturn laugh'd and leap'd with him. Yet nor the lays of birds nor the sweet smell Of different flowers in odour and in hue Could make me any summer's story tell, Or from their proud lap pluck them where they grew ; Nor did I wonder at the lily's white, Nor praise the deep vermilion in the rose : They were but sweet, but figures of delight, Drawn after you, you pattern of all those. Yet seem'd it winter still, and, you away, As with your shadow I with these did play.
Page 116 - WHEN Love with unconfined wings Hovers within my gates, And my divine Althea brings To whisper at the grates; When I lie tangled in her hair And fettered to her eye, The birds that wanton in the air Know no such liberty.
Page 82 - The forward violet thus did I chide : Sweet thief, whence didst thou steal thy sweet that smells, If not from my love's breath? The purple pride Which on thy soft cheek for complexion dwells In my love's veins thou hast too grossly dyed.
Page 165 - mong Graemes of the Netherby clan; Forsters, Fenwicks, and Musgraves, they rode and they ran: There was racing and chasing on Cannobie Lee, But the lost bride of Netherby ne'er did they see, So daring in love, and so dauntless in war, Have ye e'er heard of gallant like young Lochinvar?
Page 165 - One touch to her hand, and one word in her ear. When they reached the hall door, and the charger stood near; So light to the croupe the fair lady he swung, So light to the saddle before her he sprung! "She is won! we are gone, over bank, bush, and scaur: They'll have fleet steeds that follow,
Page 38 - One day I wrote her name upon the strand; But came the waves, and washed it away: Again, I wrote it with a second hand; But came the tide, and made my pains his prey. Vain man, said she, that dost in vain assay A mortal thing so to immortalize; For I myself shall like to this decay, And eke my name be wiped out likewise.