A History of Elizabethan Literature |
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40 cents admirable appear Arber beauty Ben Jonson better blank verse born called century certainly character charming chief comedy contemporary Crashaw critics curious death decasyllable Dekker doggerel doth doubt drama dramatists Dryden Edited Elizabethan England English Classics Series English literature English poetry English prose Euphues euphuism fair famous fancy Fletcher Gabriel Harvey Gorboduc Grosart hath heart honour humour interesting John Jonson kind known language Latin least less literary living London Lord Lyly Macmillan's English Classics Marlowe Martin Marprelate Massinger merit metre Milton Mirror for Magistrates Miscellany never Noble Kinsmen Notes pamphlets passages passion perhaps period person piece plays poems poetical poets printed reader satire seems Shakespere Shakespere's Sidney sometimes song sonnets Spenser stanza style Surrey thee things Thomas thou thought tion Tottel's Miscellany tragedy translation verse vols W. W. SKEAT whole writers written Wyatt
Popular passages
Page 110 - Love in my bosom like a bee Doth suck his sweet: Now with his wings he plays with me, Now with his feet. Within mine eyes he makes his nest, His bed amidst my tender breast; My kisses are his daily feast, And yet he robs me of my rest. Ah, wanton, will ye?
Page 126 - Give me my scallop-shell of quiet, My staff of faith to walk upon, My scrip of joy, immortal diet, My bottle of salvation, My gown of glory, hope's true gage ; And thus I'll take my pilgrimage.
Page 367 - Whoe'er she be, That not impossible she That shall command my heart and me; Where'er she lie, Locked up from mortal eye In shady leaves of destiny...
Page 365 - O thou undaunted daughter of desires! By all thy dower of lights and fires; By all the eagle in thee, all the dove; By all thy lives and deaths of love; By thy large draughts of intellectual day...
Page 368 - And teach her fair steps tread our Earth ; Till that divine Idea, take a shrine Of crystal flesh, through which to shine ; Meet you her, my wishes, Bespeak her to my blisses, And be ye call'd, my absent kisses.
Page 148 - I LONG to talk with some old lover's ghost, Who died before the god of love was born. I cannot think that he, who then loved most, Sunk so low as to love one which did scorn. But since this god produced a destiny, And that vice-nature, custom, lets it be, I must love her that loves not me.
Page 75 - If all the pens that ever poets held Had fed the feeling of their masters' thoughts. And every sweetness that inspired their hearts. Their minds, and muses on admired themes; If all the heavenly quintessence they still From their immortal flowers of poesy, Wherein, as in a mirror, we perceive The highest reaches of a human wit; If these had made one poem's period, And all...
Page 126 - Queen ; At whose approach the soul of Petrarch wept, And from thenceforth those graces were not seen, For they this Queen attended ; in whose stead Oblivion laid him down on Laura's hearse. Hereat the hardest stones were seen to bleed, And groans of buried ghosts the heavens did pierce : Where Homer's spright did tremble all for grief, * And cursed the access of that celestial thief.