The poetical works of Edmund Spenser. With mem. and critical diss., by G. Gilfillan, Band 5


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Seite 106 - Full little knowest thou, that hast not tried, What hell it is in suing long to bide: To lose good days, that might be better spent; To waste long nights in pensive discontent; To speed today, to be put back tomorrow; To feed on hope, to pine with fear and sorrow; To have thy prince's grace, yet want her peers...
Seite 274 - When so ye come into those holy places, To humble your proud faces : Bring her up to th...
Seite 275 - And sprinkle all the posts and walls with wine, That they may sweat, and drunken be withal. Crown ye God Bacchus with a coronal, And Hymen also crown with wreaths of vine; And let the Graces dance unto the rest, For they can do it best: The whiles the maidens do their carol sing, .To which the woods shall answer, and their echo ring.
Seite 273 - That all the woods should answer, and your echo ring. Open the temple gates unto my Love, Open them wide that she may enter in, And all the posts adorn as doth behove, And all the pillars deck with...
Seite 271 - Hymen, they do shout ; That, even to the heavens theyr shouting shrill Doth reach, and all the firmament doth fill ; To which the people standing all about, As in approvance, doe thereto applaud, And loud advaunce her laud ; And evermore they Hymen, Hymen sing, That al the woods them answer, and theyr eccho ring.
Seite 274 - The more they on it stare. But her sad eyes, still fastened on the ground, Are governed with goodly modesty, That suffers not one look to glance awry, Which may let in a little thought unsound.
Seite 272 - Her modest eyes, abashed to behold So many gazers as on her do stare, Upon the lowly ground affixed are; Ne dare lift up her countenance too bold, But blush to heare her prayses sung so loud, So farre from being proud.
Seite 272 - Why stand ye still ye virgins in amaze, Upon her so to gaze, Whiles ye forget your former lay to sing, To which the woods did answer, and your eccho ring?
Seite 271 - gin to shrill aloud Their merry music that resounds from far, The pipe, the tabor, and the trembling croud, That well agree withouten breach or jar.
Seite 207 - Against the bridal day, which is not long: Sweet Thames, run softly, till I end my song. Yet therein now doth lodge a noble peer, Great England's glory and the world's wide wonder, Whose dreadful name late through all Spain did thunder, And Hercules' two pillars standing near Did make to quake and fear.

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