English Poetry..: With Introduction, Notes and Illustrations, Volume 1P.F. Collier & son, 1910 |
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Página 19
... Gone , devoted himself . 158 Rather . 161 Meaning . 157 Fiddle . 158 Psaltery . 162 Tending to . 159 Get . 168 Wary . 164 151 Conduct . 158 161 155 Outer short coat . 160 Go to school . 104 The portico of St. Paul's , where lawyers met ...
... Gone , devoted himself . 158 Rather . 161 Meaning . 157 Fiddle . 158 Psaltery . 162 Tending to . 159 Get . 168 Wary . 164 151 Conduct . 158 161 155 Outer short coat . 160 Go to school . 104 The portico of St. Paul's , where lawyers met ...
Página 36
... every hour . 10 Indented . 20 Toes . 21 Burnished . 22 Called . as Locked in every limb . 24 My dear is gone away - a line from a 25 That . 20 Troubled . popular song . " alle I pray yow , that ye take it nat agrief 36 35 GEOFFREY CHAUCER.
... every hour . 10 Indented . 20 Toes . 21 Burnished . 22 Called . as Locked in every limb . 24 My dear is gone away - a line from a 25 That . 20 Troubled . popular song . " alle I pray yow , that ye take it nat agrief 36 35 GEOFFREY CHAUCER.
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... Gone . 136 Write . 137 Notorious fact . 139 Thread of my story . 140 Fox with black tips . 141 Dwelt . 142 143 Where . 144 Herbs . 145 About 10.30 A. M. 188 Befel 138 As . Premeditated . 148 Flew . * That thilke day was perilous to thee ...
... Gone . 136 Write . 137 Notorious fact . 139 Thread of my story . 140 Fox with black tips . 141 Dwelt . 142 143 Where . 144 Herbs . 145 About 10.30 A. M. 188 Befel 138 As . Premeditated . 148 Flew . * That thilke day was perilous to thee ...
Página 66
... gone , And lang she's knocked and sair she ca'd , But answer got she none . " O open the door , Love Gregor , " she says , " O open , and let me in ; For the win blaws thro my yellow hair , And the rain draps oer my chin . " " Awa , awa ...
... gone , And lang she's knocked and sair she ca'd , But answer got she none . " O open the door , Love Gregor , " she says , " O open , and let me in ; For the win blaws thro my yellow hair , And the rain draps oer my chin . " " Awa , awa ...
Página 68
... gone down to yon shore - side , As fast as he could fare ; He saw Fair Annie in her boat , But the wind it tossed her sair . And " Hey , Annie ! " and " How , Annie ! O Annie , winna ye bide ? " But ay the mair that he cried Annie , The ...
... gone down to yon shore - side , As fast as he could fare ; He saw Fair Annie in her boat , But the wind it tossed her sair . And " Hey , Annie ! " and " How , Annie ! O Annie , winna ye bide ? " But ay the mair that he cried Annie , The ...
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English Poetry: With Introductions, Notes and Illustrations, Volume 40 Charles William Eliot Prévia não disponível - 2015 |
Termos e frases comuns
abbot beauty birds bonny bride bright coude Cuckoo dear death dere dost doth earth eccho ring end my song Enone Erle eyes Fair Annet fayre fear flowers frae gentle give gode goodly grace grete hair hath heart heaven Heigh Hind Horn honour Hymen Inverey Johnn king Kinmont Willie kiss knyght kynge lady light Litell little boy live livës joy Lord love's lovers lullaby lyke Lytell Johan merry mery mind moche monke mordre never night nonny Notyngham pleasure praise proud Robyn Hode run softly sayd Robyn scorn shal shalt sherif sing sleep song of praise SONNET soul sterte Sweet Thames Tell thee ther theyr thine thing thou art thou hast thought trewely twa sisters unto Whan wind wode wolde woods wyll yemen youth
Passagens mais conhecidas
Página 358 - 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 honor more.
Página 425 - Vice is a monster of so frightful mien, As, to be hated, needs but to be seen: Yet seen too oft, familiar with her face, We first endure, then pity, then embrace.
Página 261 - 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...
Página 451 - Left the warm precincts of the cheerful day, Nor cast one longing lingering look behind? On some fond breast the parting soul relies, Some pious drops the closing eye requires; E'en from the tomb the voice of Nature cries, E'en in our ashes live their wonted fires. For thee, who, mindful of th...
Página 453 - A stranger yet to pain ! I feel the gales that from ye blow A momentary bliss bestow, As waving fresh their gladsome wing, My weary soul they seem to soothe, And, redolent of joy and youth, To breathe a second spring.
Página 398 - Now strike the golden lyre again : A louder yet, and yet a louder strain. Break his bands of sleep asunder, And rouse him, like a rattling peal of thunder. Hark, hark, the horrid sound Has raised up his head ! As awaked from the dead, And, amazed, he stares around. , Revenge, revenge...
Página 419 - Or in the natal, or the mortal hour. All Nature is but Art, unknown to thee; All Chance, Direction, which thou canst not see; All Discord, Harmony not understood; All partial Evil, universal Good: And, spite of Pride, in erring Reason's spite, One truth is clear, WHATEVER is, is RIGHT.
Página 204 - Even such is time, that takes in trust Our youth, our joys, our all we have, And pays us but with earth and dust ; Who, in the dark and silent grave, When we have wandered all our ways, Shuts up the story of our days ; But from this earth, this grave, this dust. My God shall raise me up, I trust ! ELIZABETHAN MISCELLANIES.
Página 271 - And moan the expense of many a vanish'd sight: Then can I grieve at grievances foregone, And heavily from woe to woe tell o'er The sad account of fore-bemoaned moan, Which I new pay as if not paid before. But if the while I think on thee, dear friend, All losses are restored and sorrows end.
Página 450 - For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn Or busy housewife ply her evening care : No children run to lisp their sire's return, Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share. Oft did the harvest to their sickle yield, Their furrow oft the stubborn glebe has broke ; How jocund did they drive their team afield ! How bow'd the woods beneath their sturdy stroke ! Let not Ambition mock their useful toil, Their homely joys, and destiny obscure ! Nor Grandeur hear with a disdainful smile The short and...