The English Anthology ...Joseph Ritson C. Clarke, 1793 - 334 Seiten "A selection of English poetry, in a chronological series, from the beginning of the sixteenth century (or, including an extract from Chaucer, from the latter part of the fourteenth) to the present time, upon a plan hitherto unattempted, at least in this country. ... No alteration (except in apparent mistakes) has been attempted either in the language or in the orthography, as as little as possible even in the punctuation, of the edition followed ... nor has any piece been inserted which had already appeared in "A Select Collection of English Songs," published in 1783"--Advertisement. |
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Seite 11
... hand , But came the tyde , and made my paines his pray . Vaine man , said she , that doost in vaine affay , 5 A mortal thing fo to immortalize , For I myselfe shall like to this decay , And eke my name be wiped out likewise . Not fo ...
... hand , But came the tyde , and made my paines his pray . Vaine man , said she , that doost in vaine affay , 5 A mortal thing fo to immortalize , For I myselfe shall like to this decay , And eke my name be wiped out likewise . Not fo ...
Seite 30
... hand , who would not tremble too ? Here Love takes ftand , and , while fhe charms the ear , Empties his quiver on the liftening deer : Mufic fo foftens and difarms the minde , That not an arrow does refiftance finde . Thus the fair ...
... hand , who would not tremble too ? Here Love takes ftand , and , while fhe charms the ear , Empties his quiver on the liftening deer : Mufic fo foftens and difarms the minde , That not an arrow does refiftance finde . Thus the fair ...
Seite 31
Joseph Ritson. ON A TREE CUT IN PAPER . BY THE SAME . FAIR hand ! that can on virgin - paper write , Yet from the ftain of ink preferve it white ; Whofe travel o're that filver field does fhow Like track of leveretts in morning fnow ...
Joseph Ritson. ON A TREE CUT IN PAPER . BY THE SAME . FAIR hand ! that can on virgin - paper write , Yet from the ftain of ink preferve it white ; Whofe travel o're that filver field does fhow Like track of leveretts in morning fnow ...
Seite 33
... hand lead with thee 35 The mountain nymph , fweet Liberty ; And if I give thee honour due , Mirth , admit me of thy crue , To live with her , and live with thee , In unreproved pleasures free ; To hear the lark begin his flight , And ...
... hand lead with thee 35 The mountain nymph , fweet Liberty ; And if I give thee honour due , Mirth , admit me of thy crue , To live with her , and live with thee , In unreproved pleasures free ; To hear the lark begin his flight , And ...
Seite 34
... hand , Whistles ore the furrow'd land , And the milk - maid fingeth blithe , And the mower whets his fithe , And every fhepherd tells his tale , Under the hawthorn in the dale . 65 Streit mine eye hath caught new pleasures , Whilst the ...
... hand , Whistles ore the furrow'd land , And the milk - maid fingeth blithe , And the mower whets his fithe , And every fhepherd tells his tale , Under the hawthorn in the dale . 65 Streit mine eye hath caught new pleasures , Whilst the ...
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againſt beauty bleft Born breaſt cauſe charms cloſe Cynthus DAPHNIS defire deſpair doth dyed e'er eaſe Ev'n ev'ry eyes facred fafe fair falutes fame fate fear fecret feems fhade fhall fide fighs fight filence filk fing firſt flame flow foft fome fong foon forrow foul freſh ftill fuch fudden fung fwain fweet grace groves hath heart heav'n himſelf HOBBINOL inſpire itſelf kings laft LANQUET laſt lefs loft lov'd Lycidas maid MICHAEL DRAYTON mind moffy moſt Mufe muft Muſe muſt night numbers Nut-brown Maid nymph o'er paffion paſs paſt pleaſe pleaſure pow'r praiſe purſue raiſe reft reſt rife roſes ſcene ſeen ſhade ſhall ſhape ſhe ſhore ſhould ſhow ſkies ſkill ſky ſome ſpread ſpring ſtate ſtill ſtrain ſtream ſweet tears thee theſe thine thoſe thou thouſand thro Twas uſe verſe Whilft whofe whoſe winds wiſh youth
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 35 - Sometimes, with secure delight, The upland hamlets will invite, When the merry bells ring round, And the jocund rebecks sound To many a youth and many a maid, Dancing in the chequered shade; And young and old come forth to play On a sunshine holiday, Till the livelong daylight fail...
Seite 39 - Swinging slow with sullen roar; Or if the air will not permit, Some still removed place will fit, Where glowing embers through the room Teach light to counterfeit a gloom...
Seite 43 - Bitter constraint, and sad occasion dear, Compels me to disturb your season due : For Lycidas* is dead, dead ere his prime, Young Lycidas, and hath not left his peer : Who would not sing for Lycidas ? He knew Himself to sing, and build the lofty rhyme.
Seite 33 - Haste thee, Nymph, and bring with thee Jest, and youthful Jollity, Quips and cranks, and wanton wiles, Nods and becks, and wreathed smiles, Such as hang on Hebe's cheek, And love to live in dimple sleek ; Sport that wrinkled Care derides, And Laughter holding both his sides.
Seite 118 - Bacchus' blessings are a treasure, Drinking is the soldier's pleasure ; Rich the treasure, Sweet the pleasure ; Sweet is pleasure after pain. Soothed with the sound, the king grew vain ; Fought all his battles o'er again ; And thrice he routed all his foes, and thrice he slew the slain.
Seite 46 - O fountain Arethuse, and thou honoured flood, Smooth-sliding Mincius, crowned with vocal reeds, That strain I heard was of a higher mood ! But now my oat proceeds, And listens to the Herald of the Sea That came in Neptune's plea.
Seite 44 - For we were nursed upon the self-same hill, Fed the same flock by fountain, shade, and rill. Together both, ere the high lawns appeared Under the opening eyelids of the morn, We drove a-field, and both together heard What time the gray-fly winds her sultry horn...
Seite 117 - Flushed with a purple grace He shows his honest face: Now give the hautboys breath; he comes, he comes! Bacchus , ever fair and young , Drinking joys did first ordain : Bacchus...
Seite 46 - The air was calm, and on the level brine Sleek Panope with all her sisters played. It was that fatal and perfidious bark, Built in the eclipse, and rigged with curses dark, That sunk so low that sacred head of thine.
Seite 49 - Weep no more, woeful shepherds, weep no more, For Lycidas your sorrow is not dead, Sunk though he be beneath the watery floor. So sinks the day-star in the ocean bed. And yet anon repairs his drooping head, And tricks his beams, and with new-spangled ore Flames in the forehead of the morning sky...