Love Songs of English Poets, 1500-1800W. Heinemann, 1892 - 277 pages |
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Page xviii
... Speak , Love ! 888 ΙΟΙ Hear what mighty Love can do ΙΟΙ A Bridal Song 102 At Cupid's Shrine 103 Swift - winged Love 104 Cupid ! turn thy Bow 105 The Lover's Legacy to his Cruel Mistress To his Mistress 105 тоб JOHN FORD Since first I ...
... Speak , Love ! 888 ΙΟΙ Hear what mighty Love can do ΙΟΙ A Bridal Song 102 At Cupid's Shrine 103 Swift - winged Love 104 Cupid ! turn thy Bow 105 The Lover's Legacy to his Cruel Mistress To his Mistress 105 тоб JOHN FORD Since first I ...
Page 8
... Speak without words , such words as none can tell : Her tress also should be of crispèd gold . With wit , and these , perchance I might be tied , And knit again the knot that should not slide . To his Love whom he had kissed against her ...
... Speak without words , such words as none can tell : Her tress also should be of crispèd gold . With wit , and these , perchance I might be tied , And knit again the knot that should not slide . To his Love whom he had kissed against her ...
Page 14
... speak my moan , Sith nought doth say the heart of stone . Why thus , my love , so kind bespeak Sweet eye , sweet lip , sweet blushing cheek ; Yet not a heart to save my pain ? O Venus ! take thy gifts again : Make not so fair , to cause ...
... speak my moan , Sith nought doth say the heart of stone . Why thus , my love , so kind bespeak Sweet eye , sweet lip , sweet blushing cheek ; Yet not a heart to save my pain ? O Venus ! take thy gifts again : Make not so fair , to cause ...
Page 71
... speak plain ; A child before , Now is it grown Confirmed , do you it keep ! And let ' t safe in your bosom sleep , There ever made your own ! And till we meet , Teach absence inward art to find , Both to disturb and please the mind ...
... speak plain ; A child before , Now is it grown Confirmed , do you it keep ! And let ' t safe in your bosom sleep , There ever made your own ! And till we meet , Teach absence inward art to find , Both to disturb and please the mind ...
Page 101
... Speak , Love DEAREST , do not delay me , Since , thou knowest , I must be gone ; Wind and tide , ' tis thought , doth stay me , But ' tis wind that must be blown From that breath , whose native smell Indian odours far excel . Oh , then ...
... Speak , Love DEAREST , do not delay me , Since , thou knowest , I must be gone ; Wind and tide , ' tis thought , doth stay me , But ' tis wind that must be blown From that breath , whose native smell Indian odours far excel . Oh , then ...
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Common terms and phrases
beauty behold Ben Jonson blest bliss blush born in London bosom breast breath bright Charles Charles Lamb Charles Whitehead charms cheek Cupid dear death delight died doth dream earth Edmund Gosse English eyes fair Falero Felicia Dorothea Hemans flame flowers fond gaze gentle Giles Fletcher give grace hath heart heaven Herrick John Dryden Johnson King kiss Lady Landor lero Lest light lips live look Lord Byron love thee-I love Love's lover maid maidens married Mary ne'er never night o'er pain passion play poems poet poetry pretty Richard Savage rose Samuel Taylor Coleridge sh'as left Shakespeare Shelley shine sigh silent sing smile soft song Sonnet soul sweet tears tell thee-I love thee thine Thomas Thomas Carew thou art thought twas verse vows Walter Savage Landor weep whilst William William Congreve William Wordsworth Woman Wordsworth wrote
Popular passages
Page 266 - BRIGHT star ! would I were steadfast as thou art,— Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night, And watching, with eternal lids apart, Like Nature's patient sleepless Eremite, The moving waters at their priestlike task Of pure ablution round earth's human shores...
Page 69 - Let me not to the marriage of true minds Admit impediments. Love is not love Which alters when it alteration finds, Or bends with the remover to remove: O, no ! it is an ever-fixed mark, That looks on tempests and is never shaken; It is the star to every wandering bark, Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Page 57 - Thy gowns, thy shoes, thy beds of roses, Thy cap, thy kirtle, and thy posies, Soon break, soon wither, soon forgotten: In folly ripe, in reason rotten. Thy belt of straw and ivy buds, Thy coral clasps and amber studs, All these in me no means can move To come to thee, and be thy love.
Page 226 - All impulses of soul and sense had thrilled my guileless Genevieve; The music, and the doleful tale, the rich and balmy eve ; And hopes, and fears that kindle hope, an undistinguishable throng, And gentle wishes long subdued, subdued and cherished long. She wept with pity and delight, she blushed with love and virgin shame ; And like the murmur of a dream, I heard her breathe my name.
Page 143 - Bid me to live, and I will live Thy Protestant to be ! Or bid me love, and I will give A loving heart to thee. A heart as soft, a heart as kind, A heart as sound and free As in the whole world thou canst find, That heart I'll give to thee.
Page 141 - GATHER ye rosebuds while ye may, Old Time is still a-flying; And this same flower that smiles to-day, To-morrow will be dying. The glorious lamp of heaven, the sun, The higher he's a-getting, The sooner will his race be run, And nearer he's to setting. That age is best which is the first, When youth and blood are warmer; But being spent, the worse and worst Times still succeed the former. Then be not coy, but use your time, And while ye may, go marry; For...
Page 224 - With downcast eyes and modest grace For well she knew I could not choose But gaze upon her face. I told her of the Knight that wore Upon his shield a burning brand ; And that for ten long years he wooed The Lady of the Land.
Page 217 - I travelled among unknown men, In lands beyond the sea; Nor, England! did I know till then What love I bore to thee. Tis past, that melancholy dream! Nor will I quit thy shore A second time; for still I seem To love thee more and more. Among thy mountains did I feel The joy of my desire; And she I cherished turned her wheel Beside an English fire. Thy mornings showed, thy nights concealed The bowers where Lucy played; And thine too is the last green field That Lucy's eyes surveyed.
Page 148 - Go, lovely Rose! Tell her, that wastes her time and me, That now she knows, When I resemble her to thee, How sweet and fair she seems to be. Tell her that's young And shuns to have her graces spied, That hadst thou sprung In deserts, where no men abide, Thou must have uncommended died. Small is the worth Of beauty from the light retired: Bid her come forth, Suffer herself to be desired, And not blush so to be admired.
Page 55 - A gown made of the finest wool, Which from our pretty lambs we pull, Fair lined slippers for the cold, With buckles of the purest gold. A belt of straw and ivy buds With coral clasps and amber studs : And if these pleasures may thee move, Come live with me and be my Love.