English Masterpieces, 1. köideP. Owen, 1957 |
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Page 219
... 3rd Shep . Ah , Coll , good morn ! Why sleep thou not ? 1st Shep . Alas , that ever was I born ! We have a foul blot . 450 A fat wether have we lorn . 3rd Shep . Marry , God forbot ! 33 2nd Shep . Who should do us that scorn ? That were ...
... 3rd Shep . Ah , Coll , good morn ! Why sleep thou not ? 1st Shep . Alas , that ever was I born ! We have a foul blot . 450 A fat wether have we lorn . 3rd Shep . Marry , God forbot ! 33 2nd Shep . Who should do us that scorn ? That were ...
Page 222
... Shep . Mak , friends will we be , for we are all one . Mak . We ! Now I hold for me , for amends Farewell , all three ! All glad were ye gone ! get I none . 3rd Shep . Fair words may there be , but love there is none This year . 1st Shep ...
... Shep . Mak , friends will we be , for we are all one . Mak . We ! Now I hold for me , for amends Farewell , all three ! All glad were ye gone ! get I none . 3rd Shep . Fair words may there be , but love there is none This year . 1st Shep ...
Page 224
... Shep . Lord , what ! I am sore in point for to burst . In faith , I may no more ; therefore will I rest . 2nd Shep . As a sheep of seven score he weighed in my fist . For to sleep anywhere methinks that I list . 3rd Shep . Now I pray ...
... Shep . Lord , what ! I am sore in point for to burst . In faith , I may no more ; therefore will I rest . 2nd Shep . As a sheep of seven score he weighed in my fist . For to sleep anywhere methinks that I list . 3rd Shep . Now I pray ...
Contents
1425 | 3 |
MIDDLE ENGLISH LITERATURE | 58 |
GEOFFREY CHAUCER | 97 |
Copyright | |
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Common terms and phrases
1st Shep 2nd Shep 3rd Shep beauty Ben Jonson Beowulf called Chaucer court dead dear death doth earth Ecgtheow English eyes fair father fear frier give glory gold grace green Grendel hand hath head Healfdene heard heart Heaven Hell Heorot hero honor Hrothgar Hygelac Iliad John Johnson Jutes king King Arthur knight lady leave live look Lord Lord Randal Majesty mind morning mother nature never noble o'er Ovid poem poet poetry praise prince Queen quoth Robin Hood round Scyldings shal sing Sir Bedivere Sir Gawain Sir Lucan Sir Mordred song soon soul sweet sword tell thee ther thine things thou hast thought took tree twa sisters unto verse whan wife wolde words