Avril: Being Essays on the Poetry of the French Renaissance |
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Page 8
... head of the French nationals should not return . For twenty - five years , therefore - all his manhood -he lived under this sky , rhyming and rhyming : in English a little , in French continually , and during that isolation there swept ...
... head of the French nationals should not return . For twenty - five years , therefore - all his manhood -he lived under this sky , rhyming and rhyming : in English a little , in French continually , and during that isolation there swept ...
Page 81
... head nor tail of him . Geneva was glad enough to chaunt through the nose his translations of the Psalms , but it was woefully puzzled at his salacity , and the town was very soon too hot to hold him in his exile . And as for the common ...
... head nor tail of him . Geneva was glad enough to chaunt through the nose his translations of the Psalms , but it was woefully puzzled at his salacity , and the town was very soon too hot to hold him in his exile . And as for the common ...
Page 93
... head , so simple is it and so purely lyrical : there is a touch of the dance in it , too . In these little things of Marot , which are neither learned ( and he boasted of learning ) nor set and dry ( and his friends especially praised ...
... head , so simple is it and so purely lyrical : there is a touch of the dance in it , too . In these little things of Marot , which are neither learned ( and he boasted of learning ) nor set and dry ( and his friends especially praised ...
Page 119
... head of his own group , he very soon became the head of all the movement of his day . He had made letters really great in the minds of his contemporaries , and having so made them , appeared before them as a master of those letters ...
... head of his own group , he very soon became the head of all the movement of his day . He had made letters really great in the minds of his contemporaries , and having so made them , appeared before them as a master of those letters ...
Page 121
... that priory of which - by a custom of privilege , nobility and royal favour - he was the nominal head , the priory which is " the eye and delight of Touraine " -the Isle of St. Cosmo . He sickened as he 121 RONSARD .
... that priory of which - by a custom of privilege , nobility and royal favour - he was the nominal head , the priory which is " the eye and delight of Touraine " -the Isle of St. Cosmo . He sickened as he 121 RONSARD .
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Page 217 - L'augmenteront toujours? Le malheur de ta fille au tombeau descendue Par un commun trépas, Est-ce quelque dédale, où ta raison perdue Ne se retrouve pas ? Je sais de quels appas son enfance était pleine, Et n'ai pas entrepris : Injurieux ami, de soulager ta peine Avecque son mépris.
Page 217 - Mais elle était du monde où les plus belles choses Ont le pire destin, Et, rosé, elle a vécu ce que vivent les rosés, L'espace d'un matin.
Page 200 - Here richly, with ridiculous display, The Politician's corpse was laid away. While all of his acquaintance sneered and slanged I wept: for I had longed to see him hanged.
Page 161 - Voy quel orgueil, quelle ruine: et comme Celle qui mist le monde sous ses loix, Pour donter tout, se donta quelquefois, Et devint proye au temps, qui tout consomme. 8 Rome de Rome est le seul monument, Et Rome Rome a vaincu seulement.
Page 161 - Ces vieux palais, ces vieux arcz que tu vois, Et ces vieux murs, c'est ce que Rome on nomme.
Page 139 - Mignonne, allons voir si la rose Qui ce matin avoit desclose Sa robe de pourpre au soleil A point perdu ceste vesprée Les plis de sa robe pourprée, Et son teint au vostre pareil.
Page 218 - Et nous laisse crier. Le pauvre en sa cabane, où le chaume le couvre, Est sujet à ses lois : Et la garde qui veille aux barrières du Louvre «i N'en défend point nos rois.
Page 145 - Lors vous n'aurez servante oyant telle nouvelle, Déjà sous le labeur à demi sommeillant, Qui au bruit de mon nom ne s'aille réveillant, Bénissant votre nom, de louange immortelle. Je...
Page 167 - D'une tremblante horreur fait hérisser ma peau. Las ! tes autres aigneaux n'ont faute de pasture, Ils ne craignent le loup, le vent, ny la froidure : Si ne suis-je pourtant le pire du troppeau. 3 Heureux qui, comme Ulysse...
Page 173 - Plus me plaist le séjour qu'ont basty mes ayeux, Que des palais Romains le front audacieux: Plus que le marbre dur me plaist l'ardoise fine, Plus mon Loyre Gaulois, que le Tybre Latin, Plus mon petit Lyre, que le mont Palatin, Et plus que l'air marin la doulceur Angevine.