The Poets of the Elizabethan Age: A Selection of Their Most Celebrated Songs and Sonnets |
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Page 36
... dost not bite so nigh As benefits forgot ! Though thou the waters warp , Thy sting is not so sharp As friend remember'd not . Heigh , ho ! & c . & c . WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE . UNDER the greenwood tree , Who loves to lie with. BLOW , BLOW ...
... dost not bite so nigh As benefits forgot ! Though thou the waters warp , Thy sting is not so sharp As friend remember'd not . Heigh , ho ! & c . & c . WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE . UNDER the greenwood tree , Who loves to lie with. BLOW , BLOW ...
Page 50
... dost pull And turn us round , to look on One , Whom , if we were not very dull , We could not choose but look on still ; Since there is no place so alone , The which He doth not fill . Sundays the pillars are , On which heaven's palace ...
... dost pull And turn us round , to look on One , Whom , if we were not very dull , We could not choose but look on still ; Since there is no place so alone , The which He doth not fill . Sundays the pillars are , On which heaven's palace ...
Page 59
... dost declare , And what dear gifts on thee He did not spare , A stain to human sense in sin that low'rs . What soul can be so sick which by thy songs ( Attir'd in sweetness ) sweetly is not driven Quite to forget earth's turmoils ...
... dost declare , And what dear gifts on thee He did not spare , A stain to human sense in sin that low'rs . What soul can be so sick which by thy songs ( Attir'd in sweetness ) sweetly is not driven Quite to forget earth's turmoils ...
Page 64
... dost rove , To bring from thence the scorched clove ; Nor , with the loss of thy lov'd rest , Bring'st home the ingot from the west . No ; thy ambition's master - piece Flies no thought higher than a fleece ; A COUNTRY LIFE . Or how to ...
... dost rove , To bring from thence the scorched clove ; Nor , with the loss of thy lov'd rest , Bring'st home the ingot from the west . No ; thy ambition's master - piece Flies no thought higher than a fleece ; A COUNTRY LIFE . Or how to ...
Page 66
... dost go , Which , though well soil'd , yet thou dost know That the best compost for the lands Is the wise master's feet and hands . There , at the plough , thou find'st thy team , With a hind whistling there to them ; And cheer'st them ...
... dost go , Which , though well soil'd , yet thou dost know That the best compost for the lands Is the wise master's feet and hands . There , at the plough , thou find'st thy team , With a hind whistling there to them ; And cheer'st them ...
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Common terms and phrases
angle would rejoice awake BEN JONSON BIRDS IN SPRING Blame blow blush breath of great-eyed bright brow Campaspe CELIA'S TRIUMPH Christmas cold compared with Thee CUPID delight E. M. WIMPERIS earth EDMUND SPENSER eyes face fair Samela flocks flowers garlands give the lie grace great-eyed kine greenwood tree happy hath heart heaven heaven's gate Heigh hither ICICLES HANG JOHN GILBERT JULIAN PORTCH KINGDOM kiss live look LOVE'S SERVILE LOT LOVELY ROSE-A SONG Lute merry note mind mirth morn move night PASSIONATE SHEPHERD PEDLAR'S SONG PHILIP SIDNEY Philomel play Prithee QUEEN RISING AND PRAYER ROBERT GREENE ROBERT HERRICK rose SHEPHERD'S COMMENDATION shine SIR PHILIP SIDNEY sleep SONNET sorrow soul SUNDAY sweet content SWEET day Tell things thou art Thou hast thy thou winter wind thy love Thy presence Tu-whoo tunes unto wakes wassail wealth what's WILLIAM DRUMMOND WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE WJ PALMER wrathful winter yield
Popular passages
Page 38 - Tu-who, a merry note, While greasy Joan doth keel the pot. When all aloud the wind doth blow And coughing drowns the parson's saw And birds sit brooding in the snow And Marian's nose looks red and raw, When...
Page 12 - The turtle to her make hath told her tale. Summer is come, for every spray now springs : The hart hath hung his old head on the pale ; The buck in brake his winter coat he flings ; The fishes flete with new repaired scale.
Page 69 - The glories of our blood and state Are shadows, not substantial things ; There is no armour against fate ; Death lays his icy hand on kings : Sceptre and crown Must tumble down, And in the dust be equal made With the poor crooked scythe and spade.
Page 37 - Under the greenwood tree, Who loves to lie with me, And tune his merry note Unto the sweet bird's throat, Come hither, come hither, come hither; Here shall he see No enemy But winter and rough weather.
Page 43 - Tell zeal it wants devotion; Tell love it is but lust; Tell time it is but motion; Tell flesh it is but dust: And wish them not reply, For thou must give the lie. Tell age it daily wasteth; Tell honour how it alters; Tell beauty how she blasteth; Tell favour how it falters: And as they shall reply, Give every one the lie.
Page 14 - With how sad steps, O Moon, thou climb'st the skies ; How silently ; and with how wan a face ! What ! may it be, that even in heavenly place That busy Archer his sharp arrows tries ? Sure, if that long-with-love-acquainted eyes Can judge of love, thou feel'st a lover's case ; I read it in thy looks ; thy languisht grace To me, that feel the like, thy state descries...
Page 36 - Blow, blow, thou winter wind, Thou art not so unkind As man's ingratitude ; Thy tooth is not so keen, Because thou art not seen, Although thy breath be rude.
Page 41 - Say to the court, it glows, And shines like rotten wood; Say to the church, it shows What's good, and doth no good. If church and court reply, Then give them both the lie. Tell potentates they live Acting by others' action; Not loved unless they give, Not strong but by a faction.
Page 63 - We have short time to stay, as you, We have as short a Spring ! As quick a growth to meet decay As you, or any thing.
Page 48 - SWEET day, so cool, so calm, so bright, The bridal of the earth and sky, The dew shall weep thy fall to-night, For thou must die. Sweet rose, whose hue angry and brave Bids the rash gazer wipe his eye, Thy root is ever in its grave, And thou must die. Sweet spring, full of sweet days and roses, A box where sweets compacted lie, My music shows ye have your closes, And all must...