The Book of Gems: Chaucer to PriorSamuel Carter Hall Saunders and Otley, 1836 |
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21 ÆäÀÌÁö
... thou me endue To morallise , thy litterall censes true And clense away , the mist of ignoraunce With depured beames , of goodly ordinaunce . With humble eares , of parfite audience To my request , she did then encline Saying she woulde ...
... thou me endue To morallise , thy litterall censes true And clense away , the mist of ignoraunce With depured beames , of goodly ordinaunce . With humble eares , of parfite audience To my request , she did then encline Saying she woulde ...
23 ÆäÀÌÁö
... thou and I shall wast : And ende that I have now begunne , And when this song is song and past , My lute be styll for I have done . As to be heard where eare is none , As leade to grave in marble stone , My song may pearce her hart as ...
... thou and I shall wast : And ende that I have now begunne , And when this song is song and past , My lute be styll for I have done . As to be heard where eare is none , As leade to grave in marble stone , My song may pearce her hart as ...
24 ÆäÀÌÁö
... thou hast lost and spent , To cause thy lovers sighe and swone : Then shalt thou know beauty but lent , And wish and want as I have done . Now cease , my lute , this is the last , Labour that thou and I shall wast , And ended is that we ...
... thou hast lost and spent , To cause thy lovers sighe and swone : Then shalt thou know beauty but lent , And wish and want as I have done . Now cease , my lute , this is the last , Labour that thou and I shall wast , And ended is that we ...
28 ÆäÀÌÁö
... thou doest eche nyghte enclose , To other leefe , but unto me most dere : Eccho ( alas ! ) that doth my sorrow rewe , Returns thereto a hollowe sounde of playnt ; Thus I alone , where all my freedome grewe , In pryson pyne , withe ...
... thou doest eche nyghte enclose , To other leefe , but unto me most dere : Eccho ( alas ! ) that doth my sorrow rewe , Returns thereto a hollowe sounde of playnt ; Thus I alone , where all my freedome grewe , In pryson pyne , withe ...
43 ÆäÀÌÁö
... thou borne , Desire ? " In pompe and pryme of May . " By whom , sweet boy , wert thou begot ? " By fond Conceit men say . " Tell me who was thy nurse ? " Fresh Youth.
... thou borne , Desire ? " In pompe and pryme of May . " By whom , sweet boy , wert thou begot ? " By fond Conceit men say . " Tell me who was thy nurse ? " Fresh Youth.
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bear beauty Ben Jonson born breath brest Castara court dayes death delight desire doth Earl earth eche eyes face faire fame fancy farforth farre feare flame flowers fortune genius gentle GEORGE GASCOIGNE GILES FLETCHER give glory grace grene griefe hand happy hart hast hath heart heaven holy orders honour Hudibras Inner Temple Jonson king kisse labour lady LADY ANNE CLIFFORD light live look Lord love's lover mind Muse nature never night noble nought Oxford passed passion PHINEAS FLETCHER pleasure poems Poet poetry Poly-olbion pow'r praise Queen rest rich rose scorne seemd selfe shee Shepheard sighs sight sing Sir Philip Sidney song sonnets soul Spenser sunne sweet teares Tell thee theyre thine thing thinke thou art thought unto verse vertue wanton Westminster Abbey Whilst wight winds yeeld youth
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221 ÆäÀÌÁö - Hence, loathed Melancholy, Of Cerberus and blackest Midnight born In Stygian cave forlorn 'Mongst horrid shapes, and shrieks, and sights unholy ! Find out some uncouth cell, Where brooding Darkness spreads his jealous wings, And the night-raven sings ; There, under ebon shades and low-browed rocks, As ragged as thy locks, In dark Cimmerian desert ever dwell.
106 ÆäÀÌÁö - No longer mourn for me when I am dead Than you shall hear the surly sullen bell Give warning to the world that I am fled From this vile world, with vilest worms to dwell : Nay, if you read this line, remember not The hand that writ it; for I love you so That I in your sweet thoughts would be forgot If thinking on me then should make you woe.
138 ÆäÀÌÁö - Still to be neat, still to be drest, As you were going to a feast ; Still to be powdered, still perfumed : Lady, it is to be presumed, Though art's hid causes are not found, All is not sweet, all is not sound.
267 ÆäÀÌÁö - He makes the figs our mouths to meet And throws the melons at our feet; But apples, plants of such a price, No tree could ever bear them twice.
271 ÆäÀÌÁö - Shouldst rubies find: I by the tide Of Humber would complain. I would Love you ten years before the Flood, And you should, if you please, refuse Till the conversion of the Jews.
227 ÆäÀÌÁö - Pelops' line, Or the tale of Troy divine ; Or what (though rare) of later age Ennobled hath the buskin'd stage. But O, sad virgin, that thy power Might raise Musaeus from his bower ? Or bid the soul of Orpheus sing Such notes as, warbled to the string, Drew iron tears down Pluto's cheek, And made Hell grant what love did seek. Or call up him that left...
223 ÆäÀÌÁö - Sometimes with secure delight The upland hamlets will invite, When the merry bells ring round, And the jocund rebecks sound To many a youth and many a maid, Dancing in the chequer'd shade...
267 ÆäÀÌÁö - Ambergris on shore. He cast (of which we rather boast) The Gospel's Pearl upon our Coast. And in these Rocks for us did frame A Temple, where to sound his Name. Oh let our Voice his Praise exalt, Till it arrive at Heaven's Vault : Which thence (perhaps) rebounding may Echo beyond the Mexique Bay.
200 ÆäÀÌÁö - Who would have thought my shrivelled heart Could have recovered greenness? It was gone Quite under ground; as flowers depart To see their mother-root, when they have blown; Where they together All the hard weather, Dead to the world, keep house unknown.
226 ÆäÀÌÁö - Over thy decent shoulders drawn. Come, but keep thy wonted state, With even step and musing gait And looks commercing with the skies, Thy rapt soul sitting in thine eyes; There, held in holy passion still, Forget thyself to marble, till With a sad, leaden, downward cast Thou fix them on the earth as fast.