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" Love in my bosom like a bee Doth suck his sweet: Now with his wings he plays with me, Now with his feet. Within mine eyes he makes his nest, His bed amidst my tender breast; My kisses are his daily feast, And yet he robs me of my rest. Ah, wanton, will... "
The Book of Rubies: A Collection of the Most Notable Love-poems in the ... - Página 28
1866 - 384 páginas
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Anecdotes of Literature and Scarce Books, Volume 2

William Beloe - 1807
...my bosome like a bee Doth suck his sweete, How with his wings he plaies with me, Now wijh his feete. Within mine eyes he makes his nest, His bed amidst...feast, And yet he robs me of my rest. Ah Wanton will ye ? And if I sleepe then pearcheth he With prettie flight, And makes his pillow of my knee The live...
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Anecdotes of literature and scarce books, Volume 2

William Beloe - 1807
...bee •: Doth suck his s\vecte, Now with his Mings lie plaits with ine4 Now wi^h liis feete. Wjthin mine eyes he makes his nest, His bed amidst my tender...breast, My kisses are his daily feast, And yet he robs uic of my rest. AI An Ah Wanton will ye ? And if I sleepe.then pearcheth he With prettie flight, _...
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The British Bibliographer, Volume 3

Sir Egerton Brydges, Joseph Haslewood - 1812
...expressed with more finished and happy artifice of language, than Rosalind's Madrigal, beginning " Love in my bosom, like a bee, Doth suck his sweet : Now...me, Now with his feet. Within mine eyes he makes his rest; His bed amidst my tender breast; My kisses are his daily feast ; And yet lie robs me of my rest....
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England's Helicon: A Collection of Pastoral and Lyric Poems, First Published ...

John Bodenham - 1812 - 248 páginas
...expressed with more finished and happy artifice of language, than Rosalind's Madrigal, beginning " Love in my bosom, like a bee, Doth suck his sweet : Now...me, Now with his feet. Within mine eyes he makes his rest; His bed amidst my tender breast; My kisses are his daily feast ; And yet he robs me of my rest....
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England's Helicon: A Collection of Pastoral and Lyric Poems, First Published ...

John Bodenham, Sir Egerton Brydges, Joseph Haslewood - 1812 - 248 páginas
...artifice of language, than Rosalind's Madrigal, beginning " Love in my bosom, like a bee, Doth stick his sweet : Now with his wings he plays with me, Now with his feet. Within mine eyes he makes his rtstj His bed amids-t my tender breast; My kisses are his- daily feast ; And yet he robs me of my rest....
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The British Bibliographer, Volume 3

Sir Egerton Brydges - 1812
...sweet : Now with his wings he plays with me, Now with his feet. Within mine eyes he makes his rest; His bed amidst my tender breast; My kisses are his daily feast ; And yet lie robs me of my rest. Ah, wanton, will ye :" In the present age, if there be a fashion which indulges...
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England's Helicon: A Collection of Pastoral and Lyric Poems, First Published ...

Joseph Haslewood, Sir Egerton Brydges - 1812 - 248 páginas
...expressed with more finished and happy artifice of language, than Rosalind's Madrigal, beginning " Love in my bosom, like a bee, Doth suck his sweet : Now with Ins wings he plays with me, Now with his feet. Within mine eyes he makes his r?st; His bed amidst my...
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Anecdotes of Literature and Scarce Books, Volume 2

William Beloe - 1814
...my bosome like a bee Doth suck his sweete, Now with his wings he plaies with me, Now with his feete. Within mine eyes he makes his nest, His bed amidst my tender breast, My kisses are his daily feast, Aiid yet he robs me of my rest. Ah Ah Wanton will ye ? And if I sleepe then pearchejh he With prettie...
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Chaucer, 1400, to Beaumont, 1628

Thomas Campbell - 1819
...my pen, by help of Fame, Cease to recite thy sacred name. ROSALIND'S MADRIGAL. FROM THE SAME. LOVE in my bosom, like a bee, Doth suck his sweet : Now...feast, And yet he robs me of my rest : Ah, wanton, will ye 1 And if I sleep, then pierceth he With pretty slight ; And makes his pillow of my knee The live-long...
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Glaucus and Silla: With Other Lyrical and Pastoral Poems

Thomas Lodge - 1819 - 152 páginas
...bosome like a bee Doth sucke his sweete: Now with his wings he playes with me, Now with his feete. Within mine eyes he makes his nest, His bed amidst my tender brest, My kisses are his dayly feast, And yet he robs me of my rest. Ah wanton, will ye ? And if I...
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