The Poems of Robert Greene, Christopher Marlowe, and Ben JonsonG. Bell & sons, 1878 - Počet stran: 544 |
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Strana 49
... flame within my breast . Rest , restless Love , fond baby be content ; Child , hold thy darts within thy quiver close ; And , if thou wilt be roving with thy bow , Aim at those hearts that may attend on love : Let country swains , and ...
... flame within my breast . Rest , restless Love , fond baby be content ; Child , hold thy darts within thy quiver close ; And , if thou wilt be roving with thy bow , Aim at those hearts that may attend on love : Let country swains , and ...
Strana 50
... flame from earth unto the seat of Jove ; To such as Midas , men that doat on wealth , And rent the bowels of the middle earth For coin , who gape as did fair Danae For showers of gold , there Discontent in black Throws forth the vials ...
... flame from earth unto the seat of Jove ; To such as Midas , men that doat on wealth , And rent the bowels of the middle earth For coin , who gape as did fair Danae For showers of gold , there Discontent in black Throws forth the vials ...
Strana 58
... curious bower , To dally with her paramour ; At this current as I gazed , Eyes entrapped , mind amazed , I might see in my ken Such a flame as fireth men , Such a fire as doth fry With one blaze both 58 ROBERT GREENE . ISABEL'S.
... curious bower , To dally with her paramour ; At this current as I gazed , Eyes entrapped , mind amazed , I might see in my ken Such a flame as fireth men , Such a fire as doth fry With one blaze both 58 ROBERT GREENE . ISABEL'S.
Strana 62
... flames that burnish in our sights , Darting fire out the crystal of her eyne , Able to set Narcissus ' thoughts on fire , Although he swore him foe to sweet desire . Gazing upon this leman with mine eye , I felt my sight vail bonnet to ...
... flames that burnish in our sights , Darting fire out the crystal of her eyne , Able to set Narcissus ' thoughts on fire , Although he swore him foe to sweet desire . Gazing upon this leman with mine eye , I felt my sight vail bonnet to ...
Strana 63
... oserez vous , mon bel ami ? - Thy neck as silver - white as dove ; Je vous en prie , pity me ; N'oserez vous , mon bel , mon bel , N'oserez vous , mon bel ami ? Thine eyes , like flames of holy fires , — 63 INFIDA'S SONG.
... oserez vous , mon bel ami ? - Thy neck as silver - white as dove ; Je vous en prie , pity me ; N'oserez vous , mon bel , mon bel , N'oserez vous , mon bel ami ? Thine eyes , like flames of holy fires , — 63 INFIDA'S SONG.
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Alexis beauty bel ami Ben Jonson blood breath bright Cæsar called CARMELA CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE coloured Coridon court COVENT GARDEN crown death delight desire doth Earl earth Edition English Engravings epigram EURYMACHUS eyes face fair fame fate fear fire flame flowers follies fortune GEORGE BELL Gifford grace Greene Greene's grief hair hast hath heart heaven Hero Hero and Leander History honour Hymen Jonson king kiss lady Leander light live look Lord love's lovers Marlowe masques MELICERTUS Memoir mind mistress muse N'oserez never night nymph Perimedes Phillis Phoebus piece play poems poet Pompey Portrait praise Queen repentance Richard Brome Robert Greene Shakspeare shepherd shine sighs sing smile song sorrow soul swain sweet Tamburlaine tears tell thee Thessaly thine thou art thought Translated unto Venus verse virtue vols vows wanton Wherein youth
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Strana 399 - The applause! delight! the wonder of our stage! My Shakespeare, rise ; I will not lodge thee by Chaucer, or Spenser, or bid Beaumont lie A little further, to make thee a room : Thou art a monument, without a tomb, And art alive still, while thy book doth live, And we have wits to read, and praise to give.
Strana 26 - ... supposes he is as well able to bombast out a blank verse as the best of you; and being an absolute Johannes factotum, is in his own conceit the only Shake-scene in a country.
Strana 232 - With coral clasps and amber studs ; And if these pleasures may thee move, Come live with me and be my love.
Strana 271 - I behold like a Spanish great galleon and an English man-of-war. Master Coleridge, like the former, was built far higher in learning, solid, but slow in his performances. CVL, with the English man-of-war, lesser in bulk, but lighter in sailing, could turn with all tides, tack about, and take advantage of all winds, by the quickness of his wit and invention.
Strana 231 - And we will all the pleasures prove That hills and valleys, dale and field, And all the craggy mountains yield. There will we sit upon the rocks And see the shepherds feed their flocks, By shallow rivers, to whose falls Melodious birds sing madrigals.
Strana 158 - At Sestos Hero dwelt ; Hero the fair, Whom young Apollo courted for her hair. And offered as a dower his burning throne, Where she should sit, for men to gaze upon. The outside of her garments were of lawn, The lining purple silk, with gilt stars drawn ; Her wide sleeves green, and bordered with a grove, Where Venus in her naked glory strove To please the careless and disdainful eyes Of proud Adonis, that before her lies ; Her kirtle blue, whereon was many a stain, Made with the blood of wretched...
Strana 334 - Weep with me, all you that read This little story ; And know, for whom a tear you shed Death's self is sorry. 'Twas a child that so did thrive In grace and feature, As Heaven and Nature seemed to strive Which owned the creature.
Strana 399 - Euripides, and Sophocles to us; Pacuvius, Accius, him of Cordova dead, To life again, to hear thy buskin tread, And shake a stage ; or, when thy socks were on, Leave thee alone for the comparison Of all that insolent Greece or haughty Rome Sent forth, or since did from their ashes come.
Strana 382 - Do but look on her eyes, they do light All that Love's world compriseth ! Do but look on her hair, it is bright As Love's star when it riseth ! Do but mark, her forehead's smoother...
Strana 230 - The rest complain of cares to come. The flowers do fade, and wanton fields To wayward Winter reckoning yields^ A honey tongue, a heart of gall, Is fancy's spring, but sorrow's fall. Thy gowns, thy shoes, thy beds of roses. Thy cap, thy kirtle...