Anecdotes of Literature and Scarce Books, Volume 2F. C. & J. Rivington, 1807 |
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Pagina 3
... NIGHT . 1 . In wet and cloudy mists I slowly rise , As with mine owne dull weight opprest , To close with sleep the jealous lovers eyes , And give forsaken virgins rest . 2 . Th ' adventrous merchant and the mariner , Whom stormes all ...
... NIGHT . 1 . In wet and cloudy mists I slowly rise , As with mine owne dull weight opprest , To close with sleep the jealous lovers eyes , And give forsaken virgins rest . 2 . Th ' adventrous merchant and the mariner , Whom stormes all ...
Pagina 4
... Night must intermit his sinnes . 5 . Then why when my slow chariot used to clime , Did old mistaking sages weepe ? As if my empire did usurpe their time , And houres were lost when spent in sleep . 6 . I come to ease their labours , and ...
... Night must intermit his sinnes . 5 . Then why when my slow chariot used to clime , Did old mistaking sages weepe ? As if my empire did usurpe their time , And houres were lost when spent in sleep . 6 . I come to ease their labours , and ...
Pagina 12
... night deprive my woes with sleepe . ayre , The pleasing murmurers of the That gently fanne each moving thing , I being heard , straight doe repayre , And beare a burden whilst I sing ; An heavy burden , doleful song , The fathers griefe ...
... night deprive my woes with sleepe . ayre , The pleasing murmurers of the That gently fanne each moving thing , I being heard , straight doe repayre , And beare a burden whilst I sing ; An heavy burden , doleful song , The fathers griefe ...
Pagina 13
... triumphs reach as far As night or day ; Yet you proud monarchs must obey , And mingle with forgotten ashes , when Death calls ye to the croud of common men . Devouring Devouring famine , plague , and war , Each able OLD SONGS . 13.
... triumphs reach as far As night or day ; Yet you proud monarchs must obey , And mingle with forgotten ashes , when Death calls ye to the croud of common men . Devouring Devouring famine , plague , and war , Each able OLD SONGS . 13.
Pagina 18
... night , And dreame there of your days delight . Then to the Maypole come away , For it is now a holiday . From Action and Diana , by Robert Cox . No date . SONG . SONG . What bird so sings , yet so does 18 OLD SONGS .
... night , And dreame there of your days delight . Then to the Maypole come away , For it is now a holiday . From Action and Diana , by Robert Cox . No date . SONG . SONG . What bird so sings , yet so does 18 OLD SONGS .
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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.