The Book of Elizabethan VerseWilliam Stanley Braithwaite |
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Page xix
... winds . The top of hope supposed The root of ruth will be , And fruitless all their graffèd guiles , As shortly ye shall see . Then dazzled eyes with pride , Which great ambition blinds , Shall be unsealed by worthy wights , Whose ...
... winds . The top of hope supposed The root of ruth will be , And fruitless all their graffèd guiles , As shortly ye shall see . Then dazzled eyes with pride , Which great ambition blinds , Shall be unsealed by worthy wights , Whose ...
Page xxii
... wind to please her mind , Notes from the lark I'll borrow : Bird , prune thy wing , nightingale , sing ; To give my Love good - morrow ! To give my Love good - morrow Notes from them all I'll borrow . Wake from thy nest , robin red ...
... wind to please her mind , Notes from the lark I'll borrow : Bird , prune thy wing , nightingale , sing ; To give my Love good - morrow ! To give my Love good - morrow Notes from them all I'll borrow . Wake from thy nest , robin red ...
Page 2
... wind to please her mind , Notes from the lark I'll borrow : Bird , prune thy wing , nightingale , sing ; To give my Love good - morrow ! To give my Love good - morrow Notes from them all I'll borrow . Wake from thy nest , robin red ...
... wind to please her mind , Notes from the lark I'll borrow : Bird , prune thy wing , nightingale , sing ; To give my Love good - morrow ! To give my Love good - morrow Notes from them all I'll borrow . Wake from thy nest , robin red ...
Page 7
... winds , would hear A voice surpassing far Amphion's lyre , Your stormy chiding stay ; Let Zephyr only breathe , And with her tresses play . Kissing sometimes these purple ports of death . - The winds all silent are , And Phoebus in his ...
... winds , would hear A voice surpassing far Amphion's lyre , Your stormy chiding stay ; Let Zephyr only breathe , And with her tresses play . Kissing sometimes these purple ports of death . - The winds all silent are , And Phoebus in his ...
Page 21
... . greve : E. Spenser The Blossom Na ΟΝ - a day alack the day ! - Love , whose month was ever May , Spied a blossom passing fair Playing in the wanton air : 26 . Through the velvet leaves the wind , All 21 ELIZABETHAN VERSE.
... . greve : E. Spenser The Blossom Na ΟΝ - a day alack the day ! - Love , whose month was ever May , Spied a blossom passing fair Playing in the wanton air : 26 . Through the velvet leaves the wind , All 21 ELIZABETHAN VERSE.
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Common terms and phrases
Anon Astrophel and Stella beauty bel ami Ben Jonson birds bliss Book of Airs bright Bullen Campion Corydon Cynthia's Revels dear death delight desire dost doth Dowden earth Elizabethan Elizabethan Lyrics England's Helicon eyes Faery Queene fair fairy-queen Faithful Shepherdess fear fire flowers give glory golden grace green grief Grosart hair happy hast hath heart heaven heavenly Herrick honour Jonson King kiss Lady leave light Line Line 11 lips live look Lord Love's lovers lullaby Madrigals merry mind Muses N'oserez never night nymphs passions pleasure poem poet poetry praise Prof Queen Queen Mab roses says Schelling Shake-speare's Sonnettes Shakespeare shalt shepherd shine sighs sing sleep smile song sonnet sorrow soul Spenser spring stanzas sweet tears tell Tereus thee thine things thou art thought true love unto verses wanton weep Whilst wind words youth
Popular passages
Page 424 - GOING TO THE WARS Tell me not, Sweet, I am unkind That from the nunnery Of thy chaste breast and quiet mind, To war and arms I fly. True, a new mistress now I chase, The first foe in the field; And with a stronger faith embrace A sword, a horse, a shield. Yet this inconstancy is such As you too shall adore; I could not love thee, dear, so much, Loved I not honour more.
Page 442 - Philomel, with melody Sing in our sweet lullaby ; Lulla, lulla, lullaby, lulla, lulla, lullaby : Never harm, Nor spell nor charm, Come our lovely lady nigh ; So, good night, with lullaby.
Page 561 - Tu-whit, tu-who ! a merry note, While greasy Joan doth keel the pot. When all aloud the wind doth blow, And coughing drowns the parson's saw, And birds sit brooding in the snow, And Marian's nose looks red and raw, When roasted crabs hiss in the bowl, Then nightly sings the staring owl, Tu-whit, tu-who ! a merry note, While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.
Page 552 - When to the sessions of sweet silent thought I summon up remembrance of things past, I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought, And with old woes new wail my dear time's •waste...
Page 201 - Go, lovely rose, Tell her that wastes her time and me, That now she knows, When I resemble her to thee, How sweet and fair she seems to be. Tell her that's young And shuns to have her graces spied, That hadst thou sprung In deserts where no men abide, Thou must have uncommended died.
Page 59 - 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.
Page 313 - How with this rage shall beauty hold a plea Whose action is no stronger than a flower? O, how shall summer's honey breath hold out Against the wreckful siege of battering days, When rocks impregnable are not so stout, Nor gates of steel so strong, but Time decays...
Page 403 - Orpheus with his lute made trees. And the mountain-tops that freeze, Bow themselves, when he did sing : To his music, plants and flowers Ever sprung ; as sun and showers There had made a lasting spring.
Page 538 - SWEET day, so cool, so calm, so bright, The bridal of the earth and sky! The dew shall weep thy fall to-night; For thou must die. Sweet rose, whose hue, angry and brave, Bids the rash gazer wipe his eye, Thy root is ever in its grave, And thou must die. Sweet spring, full of sweet days and roses, A box where sweets compacted lie, My music shows ye have your closes, And all must die. Only a sweet and virtuous soul, Like seasoned timber, never gives; But though the whole world turn to coal, Then chiefly...
Page 45 - 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.