The English Poets: SelectionsThomas Humphry Ward Macmillan, 1880 - English poetry |
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Page 17
... seyde everychon , That hire byhelden in hire blakë wede ; And yet sche stood ful low and stille allone Byhynden other folk in litel brede , And neygh the dore , ay under schames drede , Symple of atyre , and debonair of cheere , Wyth ...
... seyde everychon , That hire byhelden in hire blakë wede ; And yet sche stood ful low and stille allone Byhynden other folk in litel brede , And neygh the dore , ay under schames drede , Symple of atyre , and debonair of cheere , Wyth ...
Page 20
... seyde , as it come hire to mynde , And wex somdel astoned in hire thought , Right for the newë cas ; but when that she Was ful avysed , tho fond she right nought Of peril , why she aught aferëd be : For man may love of possibilité A ...
... seyde , as it come hire to mynde , And wex somdel astoned in hire thought , Right for the newë cas ; but when that she Was ful avysed , tho fond she right nought Of peril , why she aught aferëd be : For man may love of possibilité A ...
Page 21
... That to hire self she seyde , ' Who yaf me drynken ' ? ' 1 where . 3 at foot's pace . 2 as though it were a lucky day for him . who has given me a love - potion ? For of hire owen thought she wex al rede , CHAUCER . 21.
... That to hire self she seyde , ' Who yaf me drynken ' ? ' 1 where . 3 at foot's pace . 2 as though it were a lucky day for him . who has given me a love - potion ? For of hire owen thought she wex al rede , CHAUCER . 21.
Page 27
... seyde he thus : - ' O paleys desolat ! O hous of housses , whilom best yhight ! O paleys empty and disconsolat ! O thou lanterne , of which queynt is the light ! O paleys , whilom day , that now art nyght ! Wel oughtestow to falle , and ...
... seyde he thus : - ' O paleys desolat ! O hous of housses , whilom best yhight ! O paleys empty and disconsolat ! O thou lanterne , of which queynt is the light ! O paleys , whilom day , that now art nyght ! Wel oughtestow to falle , and ...
Page 29
... seyde , ' Allas ! Fro hennës rood my blisse and my solas ! As wolde blisful God now for his joye , I myght hire seen ayein com into Troye ! ' And to the yonder hille I gan hire gyde ; Allas ! and ther I took of hire my leeve ; And yond ...
... seyde , ' Allas ! Fro hennës rood my blisse and my solas ! As wolde blisful God now for his joye , I myght hire seen ayein com into Troye ! ' And to the yonder hille I gan hire gyde ; Allas ! and ther I took of hire my leeve ; And yond ...
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Common terms and phrases
Aeneid Astrophel and Stella ballads beauty Burns Canterbury Tales Chaucer Clerk Saunders death delight doth doun drede Edom English English poetry eyes Faery Queen fair fayre flour flowers Glasgerion gold grace grene gret grete gude hart hast hath heart heaven herte hire honour king lady live Lord lovers Lydgate Lyoun mede mind mony myght never night nocht nought Parlement of Foules Petrarch Piers Plowman poem poet poet's poetical poetry praise Quhat Quhen quhilk quod quoth Robin Robin Hood sall sche scho Scotch seyde shal Sidney sigh sing song sonnets sorwe Spenser stanza Stella suld sweet swete swich thair thay thee ther thing thou thought thow Timor Mortis conturbat Troylus true truth tyme unto Venus verse whan wight wolde words write wyth
Popular passages
Page xxvii - What though the field be lost? All is not lost; the unconquerable will, And study of revenge, immortal hate, And courage never to submit or yield: And what is else not to be overcome?
Page 454 - O, how much more doth beauty beauteous seem By that sweet ornament which truth doth give! The rose looks fair, but fairer we it deem For that sweet odour which doth in it live.
Page 462 - Hark, hark! the lark at heaven's gate sings, And Phoebus 'gins arise, His steeds to water at those springs On chaliced flowers that lies; And winking Mary-buds begin To ope their golden eyes: With every thing that pretty is, My lady sweet, arise: Arise, arise.
Page xvii - The future of poetry is immense, because in poetry, where it is worthy of its high destinies, our race, as time goes on, will find an ever surer and surer stay. There is not a creed which is not shaken, not an accredited dogma which is not shown to be questionable, not a received tradition which does not threaten to dissolve.
Page 465 - Under the greenwood tree * Who loves to lie with me, And turn his merry note Unto the sweet bird's throat, Come hither, come hither, come hither : Here shall he see No enemy But winter and rough weather.* JAQ.
Page 494 - Even such is time, that takes in trust Our youth, our joys, our all we have, And pays us but with earth and dust ; Who, in the dark and silent grave, When we have wandered all our ways, Shuts up the story of our days ; But from this earth, this grave, this dust, My God shall raise me up, I trust ! ELIZABETHAN MISCELLANIES.
Page 351 - With how sad steps, O Moon, thou climb'st the skies : How silently ; and with how wan a face ! What ! may it be, that even in heavenly place That busy Archer his sharp arrows tries?
Page 490 - A honey tongue, a heart of gall, Is fancy's spring, but sorrow's fall. Thy gowns, thy shoes, thy beds of roses, Thy cap, thy kirtle, and thy posies, Soon break, soon wither, soon forgotten: In folly ripe, in reason rotten. Thy belt of straw and ivy buds, Thy coral clasps and amber studs, All these in me no means can move To come to thee, and be thy love.
Page 295 - Behind her farre away a Dwarfe did lag, That lasie seemd, in being ever last, Or wearied with bearing of her bag Of needments at his backe. Thus as they past, The day with cloudes was suddeine overcast, And angry Jove an hideous storme of raine Did poure into his Lemans lap so fast, That everie wight to shrowd it did constrain ; And this faire couple eke to shroud themselves were fain.
Page 427 - 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?