The Love Poems of John Donne: Selected and Ed. by Charles Eliot Norton

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Houghton, Mifflin, 1905 - 85 Seiten
 

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Seite 4 - Song Go, and catch a falling star, Get with child a mandrake root, Tell me, where all past years are, Or who cleft the Devil's foot, Teach me to hear mermaids singing, Or to keep off envy's stinging, And find What wind Serves to advance an honest mind.
Seite 61 - Song Sweetest love, I do not go For weariness of thee, Nor in hope the world can show A fitter love for me...
Seite 22 - Come, live with me, and be my love, And we will some new pleasures prove, Of golden sands, and crystal brooks, With silken lines, and silver hooks.
Seite 60 - Eagle and the Dove. The Phoenix ridle hath more wit By us, we two being one, are it. So to one neutral! thing both sexes fit, Wee dye and rise the same, and prove Mysterious by this love.
Seite viii - To read Dryden, Pope, &c. you need only count syllables ; but to read Donne you must measure time, and discover the time of each word by the sense and passion.
Seite 6 - Garden Blasted with sighs, and surrounded with tears, Hither I come to seek the spring, And at mine eyes, and at mine ears, Receive such balms, as else cure everything; But O, self-traitor, I do bring The spider love, which transubstantiates all, And can convert manna to gall, And that this place may thoroughly be thought True paradise, I have the serpent brought.
Seite 75 - Mourning As virtuous men pass mildly away, And whisper to their souls to go, Whilst some of their sad friends do say 'The breath goes now,' and some say 'No'; So let us melt, and make no noise, No tear-floods nor sigh-tempests move; 'Twere profanation of our joys To tell the laity our love. Moving of th...
Seite 36 - twas of my mind, seizing thee, Though it in thee cannot persever. For I had rather owner be Of thee one hour, than all else ever. Air and Angels Twice or thrice had I loved thee, Before I knew thy face or name...
Seite 1 - Then as th' earth's inward narrow crooked lanes Do purge sea-water's fretful salt away, I thought, if I could draw my pains Through rhyme's vexation, I should them allay. Grief brought to numbers cannot be so fierce, For he tames it, that fetters it in verse.
Seite 44 - So to'entergraft our hands, as yet Was all the meanes to make us one, And pictures in our eyes to get Was all our propagation.

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