Anecdotes of Literature and Scarce Books, Volume 2F. C. & J. Rivington, 1807 |
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Pagina 3
... , In search where doubtful knowledge lies , Grow wearie of their fruitlesse use of light , And wish my shades to ease their eyes . B The 4 . The ambitious toyling statesman that prepares Great mischiefes OLD SONGS .. 3.
... , In search where doubtful knowledge lies , Grow wearie of their fruitlesse use of light , And wish my shades to ease their eyes . B The 4 . The ambitious toyling statesman that prepares Great mischiefes OLD SONGS .. 3.
Pagina 4
... Light . A Masque , presented at Court , on Shrove Tuesday night . 1637 . SONG . 1 . Now fie on Love , it ill befits , Or man and woman know it , Love was not meant for people in their wits , And they that fondly shew it Betray their too ...
... Light . A Masque , presented at Court , on Shrove Tuesday night . 1637 . SONG . 1 . Now fie on Love , it ill befits , Or man and woman know it , Love was not meant for people in their wits , And they that fondly shew it Betray their too ...
Pagina 15
... Light and humourous in her toying ; Oft building hopes , and soone destroying , Long but sweete in the enjoying ; Neither too easie nor too harde , All extreames I would have barde . 2 . Shee should be allowed her passions , So they ...
... Light and humourous in her toying ; Oft building hopes , and soone destroying , Long but sweete in the enjoying ; Neither too easie nor too harde , All extreames I would have barde . 2 . Shee should be allowed her passions , So they ...
Pagina 53
... light , Which makes it summer all the yeare , Or else a day of night : But truely I do think they are But eyes and neither sunne nor starre , Thy brow is as the milky way , Whereon the gods might trace Thy lips ambrosia , I dare say ...
... light , Which makes it summer all the yeare , Or else a day of night : But truely I do think they are But eyes and neither sunne nor starre , Thy brow is as the milky way , Whereon the gods might trace Thy lips ambrosia , I dare say ...
Pagina 74
... Julian Sturre late prince of light , The sparkling lustre of whose vertuous ray To Brittaine hearts content with shortest night , Promis'd the comfort of eternall day : Too Too soone expir'd , ô worthy long to proue The 74 RICHARD ZOUCHE .
... Julian Sturre late prince of light , The sparkling lustre of whose vertuous ray To Brittaine hearts content with shortest night , Promis'd the comfort of eternall day : Too Too soone expir'd , ô worthy long to proue The 74 RICHARD ZOUCHE .
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Overige edities - Alles bekijken
Veelvoorkomende woorden en zinsdelen
agayne Anno Anno Domini Archbishop Hamilton Bible Bishop's Bible black letter British Museum called Church Yard copy curious dayes death delight discourse divers doth Duke of Roxburgh edition England English EPIG flie foole GABRIEL HARVEY Garrick collection Gent Gentlemen George GEORGE GASCOIGNE George Peele grace hath haue Henry History holy honorable Imprinted at London inscribed John King Lady late learned London Lord Maister Majesties mery MUSICKE mynde never night noble Octavo pittie pleasant Poem Poet pretie Printed Printer quæ Queene quoth rare reader Robert Greene Rondeau Roxburgh collection Royal sayd Scotland shew sing singular sold SONG sonne specimen subjoin sundry sunne sweet Testament thee theyr thing Thomas Thomas Lodge thou thought thynges Tract translated tyme unto verses vertue vnto volume vpon wanton Wherein worthy writing written wyll yeres
Populaire passages
Pagina 128 - Quicquid agunt homines, votum, timor, ira, voluptas, Gaudia, discursus, nostri farrago libelli est.
Pagina 363 - Yok'd with a slow-foot ox on fallow field, Can right areed how handsomely besets Dull spondees with the English dactylets. If Jove speak English in a thundring cloud, " Thwick thwack," and " riff raff," roars he out aloud. Fie on the forged mint that did create New coin of words never articulate.
Pagina 120 - 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 ye?
Pagina 37 - Then, nymphs, take vantage while ye may; And this is Love, as I hear say. Yet what is Love, good shepherd, show? , A thing that creeps, it cannot go, A prize that passeth to and fro, A thing for one, a thing for moe, And he that proves shall find it so; And shepherd, this is Love, I trow.
Pagina 79 - ... plains? Ah, sweet Content, where dost thou safely rest ? In heaven, with Angels which the praises sing Of Him that made and rules at his behest The minds and hearts of every living thing ? Ah, sweet Content, where doth thine harbour hold ? Is it in churches with religious men Which please the gods with prayers manifold, And in their studies meditate it then ? Whether thou dost in heaven or earth appear, Be where thou wilt, thou wilt not harbour here.
Pagina 191 - WEEP not, my wanton, smile upon my knee, When thou art old there's grief enough for thee. Mother's wag, pretty boy, Father's sorrow, father's joy ; When thy father first did see Such a boy by him and me, He was glad, I was woe, Fortune changed made him so, When he left his pretty boy Last his sorrow, first his joy.
Pagina 318 - Languages. With Arguments of Bookes and Chapters, Annotations and other necessarie Helpes for the better understanding of the Text, and specially for the Discoverie of the Corruptions of divers late Translations, and for cleering the Controversies in Religion of these Daies.
Pagina 122 - Even on the brink I hear him sing; If so I meditate alone, He will be partner of my moan; If so I mourn, he weeps with me, And where I am there will he be.
Pagina 121 - I'll make you fast it for your sin, I'll count your power not worth a pin, Alas ! what hereby shall I win, If he gainsay me? What if I beat the wanton boy With many a rod ? He will repay me with annoy, Because a god. Then sit thou...
Pagina 121 - I'll count your power not worth a pin: Alas, what hereby shall I win, If he gainsay me ? What if I beat the wanton boy With many a rod ? He will repay me with annoy, Because a god. Then sit thou safely on my knee, And let thy bower my bosom be, Lurk in mine eyes, I like of thee; O Cupid, so thou pity me, Spare not, but play thee.