The Book of Elizabethan VerseWilliam Stanley Braithwaite |
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Page 6
... dear thy glorious light This is that happy morn , That day , long - wished day Of all my life so dark , ( If cruel stars have not my ruin sworn And fates not hope betray ) , Which , only white , deserves A diamond for ever should it ...
... dear thy glorious light This is that happy morn , That day , long - wished day Of all my life so dark , ( If cruel stars have not my ruin sworn And fates not hope betray ) , Which , only white , deserves A diamond for ever should it ...
Page 33
... - lord here I stand . Rejoice , oh , English hearts , rejoice ! Rejoice , oh , lovers dear ! Rejoice , oh , city , town , and country , Rejoice eke every shire ! For now the fragrant flowers do spring And sprout in 33 ELIZABETHAN VERSE.
... - lord here I stand . Rejoice , oh , English hearts , rejoice ! Rejoice , oh , lovers dear ! Rejoice , oh , city , town , and country , Rejoice eke every shire ! For now the fragrant flowers do spring And sprout in 33 ELIZABETHAN VERSE.
Page 39
... dear , And eyes divine ; Did not her globy front , and glistening hair , With cheeks most sweet , So gloriously like damask flowers appear , The gods to greet ? Say , snow - white Lily , speckled Gilly - 39 ELIZABETHAN VERSE.
... dear , And eyes divine ; Did not her globy front , and glistening hair , With cheeks most sweet , So gloriously like damask flowers appear , The gods to greet ? Say , snow - white Lily , speckled Gilly - 39 ELIZABETHAN VERSE.
Page 51
... dear , and mine he cannot miss , There never was a better bargain driven : My true - love hath my heart , and I have his . His heart in me keeps him and me in one , My heart in him his thoughts and senses guides : He loves my heart ...
... dear , and mine he cannot miss , There never was a better bargain driven : My true - love hath my heart , and I have his . His heart in me keeps him and me in one , My heart in him his thoughts and senses guides : He loves my heart ...
Page 58
... my heart with cruel throbs , And all , my Dear , for love of you , Trust me truly ; But I hope that you will some mercy show In due time duly . Anon . 64 . Rosalind's Madrigal LOVE in my bosom , like 58 THE BOOK OF 63. ...
... my heart with cruel throbs , And all , my Dear , for love of you , Trust me truly ; But I hope that you will some mercy show In due time duly . Anon . 64 . Rosalind's Madrigal LOVE in my bosom , like 58 THE BOOK OF 63. ...
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Common terms and phrases
Anon Astrophel and Stella beauty bel ami Ben Jonson birds bliss breast breath bright Bullen Campion Corydon Cuckoo dead dear death delight desire dost doth Dowden earth Elizabethan England's Helicon eyes Faery Queene fair Fairy fairy-queen faith fear fire Fletcher flowers glory golden grace green grief hair happy hath heart heaven heavenly Heigh Herrick honour Jonson King kiss Lady leave light Line Line 11 lips live look Lord Love's Love's Labour's Lost lovers lullaby Lyrics Madrigals maids merry mind Muse N'oserez never night nymphs passions pleasure poem poets praise pretty Queen Queen Mab rest roses says Shakespeare shalt shepherd shine sighs sing sleep smile song sonnet sorrow soul Spenser spring stanzas star swain sweet tears tell Tereus thee thine thing thou art thoughts true love unto verse wanton weep Whilst wind youth
Popular passages
Page 412 - 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 523 - Tu-whit, tu-who ! a merry note, While greasy Joan doth keel the pot. When all aloud the wind doth blow, And coughing drowns the parson's saw, And birds sit brooding in the snow, And Marian's nose looks red and raw, When roasted crabs hiss in the bowl, Then nightly sings the staring owl, Tu-whit, tu-who ! a merry note, While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.
Page 59 - It was a lover and his lass, With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino, That o'er the green corn-field did pass In the spring time, the only pretty ring time, When birds do sing, hey ding a ding, ding : Sweet lovers love the spring.
Page 391 - Orpheus with his lute made trees. And the mountain-tops that freeze, Bow themselves, when he did sing : To his music, plants and flowers Ever sprung ; as sun and showers There had made a lasting spring.
Page 605 - Come away, come away, death, And in sad cypress let me be laid ; Fly away, fly away, breath ; I am slain by a fair cruel maid. My shroud of white, stuck all with yew, O, prepare it ! My part of death, no one so true Did share it. Not a flower, not a flower sweet, On my black coffin let there be strown...
Page 69 - 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.
Page 502 - SWEET day, so cool, so calm, so bright, The bridal of the earth and sky! The dew shall weep thy fall to-night; For thou must die. Sweet rose, whose hue, angry and brave, Bids the rash gazer wipe his eye, Thy root is ever in its grave, And thou must die. Sweet spring, full of sweet days and roses, A box where sweets compacted lie, My music shows ye have your closes, And all must die. Only a sweet and virtuous soul, Like seasoned timber, never gives; But though the whole world turn to coal, Then chiefly...
Page 603 - Sceptre and Crown Must tumble down, And in the dust be equal made With the poor crooked scythe and spade.
Page 169 - Who is Silvia ? what is she, That all our swains commend her ? Holy, fair, and wise is she, The heaven such grace did lend her, That she might admired' be. Is she kind as she is fair ? For beauty lives with kindness : Love doth to her eyes repair, To help him of his blindness; And, being helped, inhabits there.
Page 155 - Desiring this man's art and that man's scope, With what I most enjoy contented least ; Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising, Haply I think on thee, and then my state, Like to the lark at break of day arising From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven's gate; For thy sweet love remember'd such wealth brings That then I scorn to change my state with kings.