Wyclif, Chaucer, earliest drama, renaissance, tr. by W. C. Robinson

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Page 250 - The swift swallow pursueth the flies smale; The busy bee her honey now she mings; Winter is worn that was the flowers' bale. And thus I see among these pleasant things Each care decays; and yet my sorrow springs.
Page 222 - And then may chance thee to repent The time that thou hast lost and spent To cause thy lovers sigh and swoon: 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 waste. And ended is that we begun. Now is this song both sung and past: My lute be still, for I have done.
Page 221 - My lute, awake ! perform the last Labour that thou and I shall waste ; And end that I have now begun : And when this song is sung and past, My lute ! be still, for I have done. As to be heard where ear is none, As lead to grave...
Page 257 - A valiant corpse, where force and beauty met, Happy alas, too happy but for foes, Lived, and ran the race that nature set ; Of manhood's shape where she the mould did lose.
Page 45 - God hath sente to me, under the favour and correctyon of al noble lordes and gentylmen, enprysed" to enprynte a book of the noble hystoryes of the sayd kynge Arthur and of certeyn of his knyghtes after a copye unto me delyverd. Whyche copye Syr Thomas Malorye dyd take oute of certeyn bookes of Frensshe and reduced it into Englysshe.
Page 250 - The turtle to her make hath told her tale. Summer is come, for every spray now springs : The hart hath hung his old head on the pale ; The buck in brake his winter coat he flings ; The fishes flete with new repaired scale.
Page 251 - prest of people, mad or wise; Set me in high or yet in low degree, In longest night or in the shortest day, In clearest sky or where clouds thickest be, In lusty youth or when my hairs are gray. Set me in heaven, in earth, or else in hell; In hill, or dale, or in the foaming flood; Thrall or at large, alive, whereso I dwell, Sick or in health, in evil fame or good; Hers will I be, and only with this thought Content myself although my chance be nought.
Page 252 - I know she swore with raging mind, Her kingdom only set apart, There was no loss by law of kind That could have gone so near her heart. And this was chiefly all her pain...
Page 232 - LOVE. FAREWELL, Love, and all thy laws for ever ; Thy baited hooks shall tangle me no more : Senec, and Plato, call me from thy lore, To perfect wealth, my wit for to endeavour...
Page 227 - HIS RETURN FROM SPAIN. Tagus farewell ! that westward with thy streams Turns up the grains of gold already tried ; For I with spur and sail go seek the Thames Gainward the sun that showeth her wealthy pride. And to the town that Brutus sought by dreams, Like bended moon that leans her lusty side ; My king, my country alone for whom I live, Of mighty Love the winds for this me give 1 ! FROM THE SECOND SATIRE.

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