The Poems of Robert Greene, Christopher Marlowe, and Ben JonsonG. Bell & sons, 1878 - Počet stran: 544 |
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Strana iii
... SONG IN HIS BED 39 SONG MENAPHON'S ECLOGUE MELICERTUS ' ECLOGUE . DORON'S ECLOGUE SONNETTO 40 41 43 45 47 MADRIGAL DITTY SONNET 48 49 50 SONNET SONNET 51 61 SONNET 52 PAGE THE PRAISE OF FAWNIA BELLARIA'S EPITAPH AN ODE . B 2.
... SONG IN HIS BED 39 SONG MENAPHON'S ECLOGUE MELICERTUS ' ECLOGUE . DORON'S ECLOGUE SONNETTO 40 41 43 45 47 MADRIGAL DITTY SONNET 48 49 50 SONNET SONNET 51 61 SONNET 52 PAGE THE PRAISE OF FAWNIA BELLARIA'S EPITAPH AN ODE . B 2.
Strana iv
Robert Greene, Christopher Marlowe, Ben Jonson Robert Bell. PAGE THE PRAISE OF FAWNIA BELLARIA'S EPITAPH AN ODE . THE PALMER'S ODE THE HERMIT'S VERSES ISABEL'S ODE FRANCESCO'S ODE CANZONE INFIDA'S SONG . FRANCESCO'S ROUNDELAY • THE ...
Robert Greene, Christopher Marlowe, Ben Jonson Robert Bell. PAGE THE PRAISE OF FAWNIA BELLARIA'S EPITAPH AN ODE . THE PALMER'S ODE THE HERMIT'S VERSES ISABEL'S ODE FRANCESCO'S ODE CANZONE INFIDA'S SONG . FRANCESCO'S ROUNDELAY • THE ...
Strana 38
... praises of my love , And midst thy oaten harmony * recount How fair she is that makes thy music mount , And every string of thy heart's harp to move . Shall I compare her form unto the sphere , Whence sun - bright Venus vaunts her ...
... praises of my love , And midst thy oaten harmony * recount How fair she is that makes thy music mount , And every string of thy heart's harp to move . Shall I compare her form unto the sphere , Whence sun - bright Venus vaunts her ...
Strana 53
... PRAISE OF FAWNIA . AH , were she pitiful as she is fair , Or but as mild as she is seeming so , Then were my hopes greater than my despair , Then all the world were heaven , nothing woe . Ah ... PRAISE OF FAWNIA . 53 THE PRAISE OF FAWNIA.
... PRAISE OF FAWNIA . AH , were she pitiful as she is fair , Or but as mild as she is seeming so , Then were my hopes greater than my despair , Then all the world were heaven , nothing woe . Ah ... PRAISE OF FAWNIA . 53 THE PRAISE OF FAWNIA.
Strana 85
... praising ; Juno's state and Pallas ' wit disgraced with the Graces That graced her , whom poor Coridon did choose for a love - mate . Ah , but had Coridon now seen the star that Alexis Nash humorously describes English hexameters as ...
... praising ; Juno's state and Pallas ' wit disgraced with the Graces That graced her , whom poor Coridon did choose for a love - mate . Ah , but had Coridon now seen the star that Alexis Nash humorously describes English hexameters as ...
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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...