Early English Poems, Chaucer to Pope: Chiefly Unabridged; Illustrated with Upwards of Two Hundred Engravings on Wood, from Drawings by Eminent Artists |
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Page 5
... Singing he was , or floyting alle the day , He was as fresshe as is the moneth of May . Short was his goune , with sleves long and wide . Wel coude he sitte on hors , and fayre ride . W THOMAS He coude songes make , and wel endite , Juste.
... Singing he was , or floyting alle the day , He was as fresshe as is the moneth of May . Short was his goune , with sleves long and wide . Wel coude he sitte on hors , and fayre ride . W THOMAS He coude songes make , and wel endite , Juste.
Page 45
... sing A sang of love , with voice right comfortable , Again ' the orient beamis , amiable , Upon a blissful branch of laurel green ; This was her sentence , sweet and delectable , A lusty life in Lovis service been . Under this branch ...
... sing A sang of love , with voice right comfortable , Again ' the orient beamis , amiable , Upon a blissful branch of laurel green ; This was her sentence , sweet and delectable , A lusty life in Lovis service been . Under this branch ...
Page 50
... Singing of love amang the leavis small ; Whose eidant plead yet made my thoughtis grein , Both sleeping . waking , in rest and in travail : Me to recomfort most it does avail , Again for love , when love I can find none , To think how ...
... Singing of love amang the leavis small ; Whose eidant plead yet made my thoughtis grein , Both sleeping . waking , in rest and in travail : Me to recomfort most it does avail , Again for love , when love I can find none , To think how ...
Page 52
... sing to them that heareth me ; Then though my songs be somewhat plain , And toucheth some that use to feign , Blame not my Lute ! My Lute and strings may not deny , But as I strike they must obey ; Break not them then so wrongfully ...
... sing to them that heareth me ; Then though my songs be somewhat plain , And toucheth some that use to feign , Blame not my Lute ! My Lute and strings may not deny , But as I strike they must obey ; Break not them then so wrongfully ...
Page 57
... nightingale with feathers new she sings ; The turtle to her mate hath told her tale : I Summer is come , for every spray now springs ,. BY HENRY HOWARD , EARL OF SURREY . " MY MIND TO ME . " "THE SOOTE SEASON Earl of Surrey Earl of Surrey.
... nightingale with feathers new she sings ; The turtle to her mate hath told her tale : I Summer is come , for every spray now springs ,. BY HENRY HOWARD , EARL OF SURREY . " MY MIND TO ME . " "THE SOOTE SEASON Earl of Surrey Earl of Surrey.
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Common terms and phrases
a-Maying ABRAHAM COWLEY afterwards anon beauties became Ben Jonson birds BIRKET FOSTER BOUNTIFUL RATE brave old house breast CANTERBURY CANTERBURY TALES cause dance death delight died doth E. M. WIMPERIS Earl earth educated at Cambridge educated at Oxford eyes fair fairy fayre flowers FRANCIS QUARLES GEORGE WITHER GILES FLETCHER give glory grace green hath heart heaven hire honour hounds JAMES SHIRLEY JOHN GILBERT king L'ALLEGRO lady land live Lord lovers lulla lusty Lute maids Merle merry mind mirth music's neighbours never night Nightingale nought o'er old cap old courtier pale play poems poets poor prison PROLOGUE queen RICHARD LOVELACE ROBERT HERRICK ROBIN GOODFELLOW SAMUEL DANIEL Seint SHAKSPEARE shepherd sing SIR JOHN SUCKLING sleep song soul sport spring sweet swiche Tell thee ther therto thing Thy presence unto wanton Wel coude Westminster Abbey whan wine wolde young courtier youth
Popular passages
Page 154 - THE glories of our blood and state Are shadows, not substantial things ; There is no armour against Fate ; Death lays his icy hand on kings : Sceptre and Crown Must tumble down, And in the dust be equal made With the poor crooked scythe and spade.
Page 180 - Does straight its own resemblance find; Yet it creates, transcending these, Far other worlds, and other seas; Annihilating all that's made To a green thought in a green shade. Here at the fountain's sliding foot, Or at some fruit-tree's mossy root, Casting the body's vest aside, My soul into the boughs does glide: There like a bird it sits, and sings, Then whets and claps its silver wings; And, till prepared for longer flight, Waves in its plumes the various light.
Page 107 - IF all the world and love were young, And truth in every shepherd's tongue, These pretty pleasures might me move To live with thee and be thy love.
Page 126 - Drink to me only with thine eyes, And I will pledge with mine; Or leave a kiss but in the cup And 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.
Page 142 - WHY so pale and wan, fond lover? Prithee, why so pale? Will, when looking well can't move her, Looking ill prevail? Prithee, why so pale?
Page 181 - TWAS at the royal feast for Persia won By Philip's warlike son: Aloft in awful state The godlike hero sate On his imperial throne...
Page 134 - Get up, get up for shame ! the blooming morn Upon her wings presents the god unshorn. See how Aurora throws her fair Fresh-quilted colours through the air: Get up, sweet slug-a-bed, and see The dew bespangling herb and tree. Each flower has wept, and bow'd toward the east. Above an hour since ; yet you not drest, Nay ! not so much as out of bed ? When all the birds have matins said, And sung their thankful hymns : 'tis sin, Nay, profanation, to keep in, — Whenas a thousand virgins on this day,...
Page 61 - With how sad steps, O Moon, thou climb'st the skies ; How silently ; and with how wan a face ! What ! may it be, that even in heavenly place That busy Archer his sharp arrows tries ? Sure, if that long-with-love-acquainted eyes Can judge of love, thou feel'st a lover's case ; I read it in thy looks ; thy languisht grace To me, that feel the like, thy state descries...
Page 21 - PERSOUN of a toun ; But riche he was of holy thought and werk. He was also a lerned man, a clerk, That Cristes gospel trewely wolde preche ; His parisshens devoutly wolde he teche.
Page 101 - Over hill, over dale, Thorough bush, thorough brier, Over park, over pale, Thorough flood, thorough fire, I do wander every where, Swifter than the moon's sphere ; And I serve the fairy queen, To dew her orbs upon the green.