Chaucer to BurnsWilliam James Linton C. Scribner's Sons, 1883 - English poetry |
From inside the book
Results 1-5 of 5
Page xlviii
... Wooing Song .... 140 JOHN FORD : Dirge No more Shadows . Ι4Ι 142 142 143 Comforts lasting .. NATHANIEL FIELD : Matin Song ... UNCERTAIN AUTHORS : 143 To Night 144 His Lady's Grief 145 Love me not for comely Grace !. 145 The Tomb of ...
... Wooing Song .... 140 JOHN FORD : Dirge No more Shadows . Ι4Ι 142 142 143 Comforts lasting .. NATHANIEL FIELD : Matin Song ... UNCERTAIN AUTHORS : 143 To Night 144 His Lady's Grief 145 Love me not for comely Grace !. 145 The Tomb of ...
Page 140
... WOOING SONG . Love is the blossom where there blows Every thing that lives or grows : Love doth make the heavens to move , And the sun doth burn in love ; Love the strong and weak doth yoke , And makes the ivy climb the oak ; Under ...
... WOOING SONG . Love is the blossom where there blows Every thing that lives or grows : Love doth make the heavens to move , And the sun doth burn in love ; Love the strong and weak doth yoke , And makes the ivy climb the oak ; Under ...
Page 194
... wooing ; The parson for him stay'd Yet by his leave , for all his haste , He did not so much wish all past , Perchance , as did the Maid . The Maid , and thereby hangs a tale , For such a Maid no Widson ale Could ever yet produce : No ...
... wooing ; The parson for him stay'd Yet by his leave , for all his haste , He did not so much wish all past , Perchance , as did the Maid . The Maid , and thereby hangs a tale , For such a Maid no Widson ale Could ever yet produce : No ...
Page 298
... wooing o't ! On blithe Yule night when we were fou , Ha ha ! the wooing o't ! Maggie coost her head fu ' high , Look'd asklent and unco sleigh , Gart poor Duncan stand abeigh : Ha ha ! the wooing o't ! Duncan fleech'd , and Duncan pray ...
... wooing o't ! On blithe Yule night when we were fou , Ha ha ! the wooing o't ! Maggie coost her head fu ' high , Look'd asklent and unco sleigh , Gart poor Duncan stand abeigh : Ha ha ! the wooing o't ! Duncan fleech'd , and Duncan pray ...
Page 299
... wooing o't ! How it comes let doctors tell , Ha ha ! the wooing o't ! Meg grew sick as he grew heal , Ha ha ! the wooing o't ! Something in her bosom wrings , For relief a sigh she brings , And O her een ! they spak ' sic things : Ha ha ...
... wooing o't ! How it comes let doctors tell , Ha ha ! the wooing o't ! Meg grew sick as he grew heal , Ha ha ! the wooing o't ! Something in her bosom wrings , For relief a sigh she brings , And O her een ! they spak ' sic things : Ha ha ...
Common terms and phrases
Ae fond kiss Æneid beauty bel ami BEN JONSON birds bless'd blushing bonnie breast breath bright Chaucer cheeks CLORINDA Corydon crown Cuckoo dear death delight divine dost doth earth eyes fair fate fear fire flame flowers FRANCIS BEAUMONT FRANCIS DAVISON GILES FLETCHER glory golden grace grief hair hand happy hast hath hear heart heaven heavenly JEAN ELLIOT joys King kiss Lady light lilies lips live look Love is dead Love's lovers Lycidas Maid melancholy merry mind Mistress Muse N'oserez-vous ne'er never night nonny nought numbers Nymphs o'er pity play pleasure poems poet praise Queen RICHARD BROME roses shade shepherds shine sigh sight sing sleep smile song sonnets sorrow soul Spring stars sweet tears Tell thine thing thou art thought Tottel's Miscellany true love unto verse virtue WALTER DAVISON weep wind wings wither woods wooing o't wrote
Popular passages
Page 109 - When to the sessions of sweet silent thought I summon up remembrance of things past, I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought, And with old woes new wail my dear time's waste...
Page 227 - Going to the Wars TELL me not, Sweet, I am unkind, That from the nunnery Of thy chaste breast, and quiet mind, To war and arms I fly. True; a new mistress now I chase, The first foe in the field; And with a stronger faith embrace A sword, a horse, a shield. Yet this inconstancy is such, As you too shall adore; I could not love thee, dear, so much, Loved I not honour more.
Page 106 - Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky, That dost not bite so nigh As benefits forgot : Though thou the waters warp, Thy sting is not so sharp As friend remember'd not Heigh, ho ! sing, heigh, ho ! &c.
Page 263 - The curfew tolls the knell of parting day, The lowing herd wind slowly o'er the lea, The ploughman homeward plods his weary way, And leaves the world to darkness and to me. Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight, And all the air a solemn stillness holds, Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight, And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds...
Page 264 - Forbade to wade through slaughter to a throne And shut the gates of mercy on mankind ; The struggling pangs of conscious truth to hide, To quench the blushes of ingenuous shame...
Page 104 - Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more, Men were deceivers ever, One foot in sea and one on shore, To one thing constant never : Then sigh not so, but let them go, And be you blithe and bonny, Converting all your sounds of woe Into Hey nonny, nonny.
Page 290 - ... eye Could frame thy fearful symmetry? In what distant deeps or skies Burnt the fire of thine eyes? On what wings dare he aspire? What the hand dare seize the fire ? And what shoulder and what art Could twist the sinews of thy heart? And, when thy heart began to beat, What dread hand and what dread feet? What the hammer? What the chain? In what furnace was thy brain? What the anvil? What dread grasp Dare its deadly terrors clasp? When the stars threw down their spears, And water'd heaven with...
Page 206 - Hermes, or unsphere The spirit of Plato, to unfold What worlds or what vast regions hold The immortal mind that hath forsook Her mansion in this fleshly nook...
Page 111 - That time of year thou mayst in me behold When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang Upon those boughs which shake against the cold, Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang. In me thou see'st the twilight of such day As after sunset fadeth in the west; Which by and by black night doth take away, Death's second self, that seals up all in rest.
Page 129 - Drink to me only with thine eyes, And I will pledge with mine; Or leave a kiss but in the cup And 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.