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µµ¼­ I'll not look for wine. The thirst that from the soul doth rise Doth ask a drink...¿¡ ´ëÇØ °Ë»öÇÑ
" I'll not look for wine. The thirst that from the soul doth rise Doth ask a drink divine; But might I of Jove's nectar sup, I would not change for thine. I sent thee late a rosy wreath, Not so much honouring thee As giving it a hope that there It could... "
Specimens of the Early English Poets - 114 ÆäÀÌÁö
ÀúÀÚ: George Ellis - 1790 - 323 ÆäÀÌÁö
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Poets of England and America; being selections from the best authors of both ...

England - 1860 - 532 ÆäÀÌÁö
...might I of Jove's nectar sup, I would not change for thine. I sent thee late a rosy wreath, Not so much honouring thee, As giving it a hope, that there It could not withered be. But thou thereon didst only breathe, And sentst it back to me: Since when it grows, and smells, I swear, Not of itself,...
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The Loves and Heroines of the Poets

Richard Henry Stoddard - 1861 - 560 ÆäÀÌÁö
...might I of Jove's nectar sup, I would not change for thine. I sent thee late a rosy wreath, Not so much honouring thee, As giving it a hope that there It could not withered be. But thou thereon did'st only breathe. And sent 'st it back to me; Since when it grows, and smells, I swear, Not of itself,...
Àüüº¸±â - µµ¼­ Á¤º¸

The Loves and Heroines of the Poets

Richard Henry Stoddard - 1861 - 552 ÆäÀÌÁö
...might I of Jove's nectar sup, I would not change for thine. I sent thee late a rosy wreath, Not so much honouring thee, As giving it a hope that there It could not withered be. But thou thereon did'st only breathe, And sent 'st it back to me ; Since when it grows, and smells, I swear, Not of...
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The Golden Treasury of the Best Songs and Lyrical Poems in the English ...

Francis Turner Palgrave - 1861 - 356 ÆäÀÌÁö
...might I of Jove's nectar sup, I would not change for thine. I sent thee late a rosy wreath, Not so much honouring thee As giving it a hope that there It could not wither'd be ; But thou thereon didst only breathe And sent'st it back to me ; Since when it grows,...
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A manual of English literature

Thomas Arnold - 1862 - 452 ÆäÀÌÁö
...might I of Jove's nectar sup, I would not change for thine. " I sent thee late a rosy wreath, Not so much honouring thee As giving it a hope that there It could not withered be. But thou thereon didst only breathe And sent'st it back to me ; Since when it grows, and smells, I swear, Not of itself,...
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Gleanings from the English poets, Chaucer to Tennyson, with biogr. notices ...

English poets - 1862 - 622 ÆäÀÌÁö
...might I of Jove's nectar sup, I would not change for thine. I sent thee late a rosy wreath, Not so much honouring thee, As giving it a hope that there It could not withered be. But thou thereon didst only breathe, And sent'st it back to me ; Since when it grows, and smells, I swear, Not of itself,...
Àüüº¸±â - µµ¼­ Á¤º¸

Choice Poems and Lyrics

Choice poems - 1862 - 368 ÆäÀÌÁö
...might I of love's nectar sup, I would not change for thine. I sent thee, late, a rosy wreath, Not so much honouring thee, As giving it a hope, that there It could not withered be. But thou thereon didst only breathe, And sent it back to me: Since when it grows, and smells, I swear, Not of itself,...
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Early English Poems, Chaucer to Pope: Chiefly Unabridged; Illustrated with ...

1863 - 478 ÆäÀÌÁö
...But might I of Jove's nectar sup I would not change for thine. I sent thee late a rosy wreath. Not so much honouring thee, As giving it a hope, that there It could not wither'd be. But thou thereon didst only breathe, And sent'st it back to me; Since when it grows, and...
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Favourite English Poems: Chaucer to Pope, 1350-1700

1863 - 362 ÆäÀÌÁö
...But might I of Jove's nectar sup I would not change for thine. I sent thee late a rosy wreath, Not so much honouring thee, As giving it a hope, that there It could not wither'd be. Rut thou thereon didst only breathe, And sent'st it back to me ; Since when it grows,...
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An index to familiar quotations selected principally from British authors ...

John Cooper Grocott - 1863 - 562 ÆäÀÌÁö
...Scene 1. (Mercutio after being wounded by Tybalt.) WREA TH. — I sent thee late a rosy wreath, Not so much honouring thee, As giving it a hope that there It could not wither'd be. BEN JONSON — A Song. "Drink to me ouly," &c. WRECK.— The stars shall fade away, the...
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