Select specimens of the English poets, ed. by A. De Vere |
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Página 4
Of his statúre he was of even lengthe ; And wonderly deliver , and grete of
strengthe , And he hadde be , somtime , in chevachie In Flaundres , in Artois ,
and in Picardie , And borne him wel , as of so litel space , In hope to standen in
his ladies ...
Of his statúre he was of even lengthe ; And wonderly deliver , and grete of
strengthe , And he hadde be , somtime , in chevachie In Flaundres , in Artois ,
and in Picardie , And borne him wel , as of so litel space , In hope to standen in
his ladies ...
Página 19
Not always fall of leaf , nor ever spring ; Not endless night , yet not eternal day :
The saddest birds a season find to sing ; The roughest storm a calm may soon
allay . Thus , with succeeding turns God tempereth all , That man may hope to
rise ...
Not always fall of leaf , nor ever spring ; Not endless night , yet not eternal day :
The saddest birds a season find to sing ; The roughest storm a calm may soon
allay . Thus , with succeeding turns God tempereth all , That man may hope to
rise ...
Página 23
... broad - blazed fame , That up to Heven is blowne . ” The auncient dame Him
goodly greeted in her modest guyse , And enterteynd them both , as best became
, With all the court ' sies that she could devyse. 3 unawares . 4 Faith . 6 Hope .
... broad - blazed fame , That up to Heven is blowne . ” The auncient dame Him
goodly greeted in her modest guyse , And enterteynd them both , as best became
, With all the court ' sies that she could devyse. 3 unawares . 4 Faith . 6 Hope .
Página 24
Then said the aged Calia ; “ Deare dame , And you , good sir , I wote that of youre
toyle And labors long , through which ye hether came , Ye both forwearied be :
therefore a whyle I read you rest , and to your bowres recoyle. 4 Faith . 6 Hope ...
Then said the aged Calia ; “ Deare dame , And you , good sir , I wote that of youre
toyle And labors long , through which ye hether came , Ye both forwearied be :
therefore a whyle I read you rest , and to your bowres recoyle. 4 Faith . 6 Hope ...
Página 33
But man , forgetfull of his Makers grace , No lesse than angels whom he did
ensew , Fell from the hope of promist heavenly place Into the mouth of death , to
sinners dew ; And all his offspring into thraldome threw , When they for ever
should in ...
But man , forgetfull of his Makers grace , No lesse than angels whom he did
ensew , Fell from the hope of promist heavenly place Into the mouth of death , to
sinners dew ; And all his offspring into thraldome threw , When they for ever
should in ...
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Otras ediciones - Ver todas
Select Specimens of the English Poets, Ed. by A. de Vere Aubrey Thomas De Vere Sin vista previa disponible - 2016 |
Select Specimens of the English Poets, Ed by a de Vere Aubrey De Vere Sin vista previa disponible - 2012 |
Términos y frases comunes
beauty birds blood born breath bright bring clouds court dark dead dear death deep delight died doth early earth eyes face fair fall fame fear field fire flowers give glory grace grave grow hand happy hast hath head hear heart heaven hill honour hope hour human Italy king land learning leaves less light living looks Lord mind morn mortal nature never night o'er once pass play pleasure poems poet poetry rest rich rise rocks rose round seems shine sight silent sing sleep smile soft song soul sound spirit spring stars sweet tears Tell thee thine things thou thought trees true turn unto voice wind wings woods youth
Pasajes populares
Página 253 - Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they? Think not of them, thou hast thy music too, While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day...
Página 254 - Away ! away ! for I will fly to thee, Not charioted by Bacchus and his pards, But on the viewless wings of poesy...
Página 252 - Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness ! Close bosom-friend of the maturing Sun ! Conspiring with him how to load and bless With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eaves run ; To bend with apples the moss'd cottage-trees, And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core...
Página 248 - I bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers, From the seas and the streams; I bear light shade for the leaves when laid In their noonday dreams. From my wings are shaken the dews that waken The sweet buds every one, When rocked to rest on their mother's breast, As she dances about the sun. I wield the flail of the lashing hail, And whiten the green plains under, And then again I dissolve it in rain, And laugh as I pass in thunder.
Página 47 - The friends thou hast, and their adoption tried, Grapple them to thy soul with hoops of steel; But do not dull thy palm with entertainment Of each new-hatch'd, unfledg'd comrade. Beware Of entrance to a quarrel, but being in, Bear't that the opposed may beware of thee. Give every man thine ear, but few thy voice; Take each man's censure, but reserve thy judgment.
Página 18 - And we will sit upon the rocks, Seeing the shepherds feed their flocks, By shallow rivers, to whose falls Melodious birds sing madrigals. And I will make thee beds of roses And a thousand fragrant posies, A cap of flowers, and a kirtle...
Página 94 - Enlarged winds, that curl the flood, Know no such liberty. Stone walls do not a prison make, Nor iron bars a cage; Minds innocent and quiet take That for an hermitage; If I have freedom in my love And in my soul am free, Angels alone, that soar above, Enjoy such liberty.
Página 149 - The paths of glory lead but to the grave. Nor you, ye proud, impute to these the fault If memory o'er their tomb no trophies raise, Where through the long-drawn aisle and fretted vault The pealing anthem swells the note of praise. Can storied urn or animated bust Back to its mansion call the fleeting breath ? Can honour's voice provoke the silent dust, Or flattery soothe the dull cold ear of death...
Página 152 - Beside yon straggling fence that skirts the way, With blossomed furze unprofitably gay, There, in his noisy mansion, skilled to rule, The village master taught his little school. A man severe he was, and stern to view ; I knew him well, and every truant knew. Well had the boding tremblers learned to trace The day's disasters in his morning face...
Página 44 - Hath not old custom made this life more sweet Than that of painted pomp ? Are not these woods More free from peril than the envious court? Here feel we but the penalty of Adam, The seasons' difference ; as, the icy fang, And churlish chiding of the winter's wind ; Which when it bites and blows upon my body, Even till I shrink with cold, I smile, and say, — This is no flattery : these are counsellors, That feelingly persuade me what I am.