The English Parnassus: An Anthology Chiefly of Longer PoemsWilliam Macneile Dixon, Sir Herbert John Clifford Grierson Clarendon Press, 1911 - 767 pages |
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Page 94
... leave your wonted labors for this day : This day is holy ; doe ye write it downe , That ye for ever it remember may . This day the sunne is in his chiefest hight , With Barnaby the bright , From whence declining daily by degrees , He ...
... leave your wonted labors for this day : This day is holy ; doe ye write it downe , That ye for ever it remember may . This day the sunne is in his chiefest hight , With Barnaby the bright , From whence declining daily by degrees , He ...
Page 95
... leave my Love alone , And leave likewise your former lay to sing : The woods no more shall answere , nor your echo ring . Now welcome night , thou night so long expected , That long daies labour doest at last defray , And all my cares ...
... leave my Love alone , And leave likewise your former lay to sing : The woods no more shall answere , nor your echo ring . Now welcome night , thou night so long expected , That long daies labour doest at last defray , And all my cares ...
Page 112
... Stage : Or , when thy Sockes were on , Leave thee alone , for the comparison 10 20 20 30 Of all , that insolent Greece , or haughtie Rome BEN JONSON 77 17 TO THE MEMORY OF MY BELOVED, THE AUTHOR, MR WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE, AND WHAT HATH LEFT.
... Stage : Or , when thy Sockes were on , Leave thee alone , for the comparison 10 20 20 30 Of all , that insolent Greece , or haughtie Rome BEN JONSON 77 17 TO THE MEMORY OF MY BELOVED, THE AUTHOR, MR WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE, AND WHAT HATH LEFT.
Page 117
... leave it now . Thinke that no stubborne sullen Anchorit , Which fixt to a pillar , or a grave , doth sit Bedded , and bath'd in all his ordures , dwels So fowly as our Soules in their first built Cels . Thinke in how poore a prison thou ...
... leave it now . Thinke that no stubborne sullen Anchorit , Which fixt to a pillar , or a grave , doth sit Bedded , and bath'd in all his ordures , dwels So fowly as our Soules in their first built Cels . Thinke in how poore a prison thou ...
Page 118
... leave , Twenty perchance or thirty mile a day , Dispatches in a minute all the way Twixt heaven , and earth ; she stayes not in the ayre , To looke what Meteors there themselves prepare ; She carries no desire to know , nor sense ...
... leave , Twenty perchance or thirty mile a day , Dispatches in a minute all the way Twixt heaven , and earth ; she stayes not in the ayre , To looke what Meteors there themselves prepare ; She carries no desire to know , nor sense ...
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Common terms and phrases
anon Arcite arms beauty blood breast breath brest Chaucer clouds cold coude courser dark dead death doth doun dream earth Emelye ev'ry eyes face fair fame fate fear flowers glory grace grief hand hast hath hear heart heaven herte honour Jebusites kings lady Lady of Shalott light live look lord Lycidas mind mordre Muse namore never night noght nymph o'er once Oxus Palamon pale PARNASSUS poem poet poetry praise round Rustum ryde Saturn seem'd seyde shal shee sigh sing sleep smile song sorrow soul spirit stars sterte stood Sunne sweet swich sylphs tears Thalestris Thebes thee ther Theseus theyr thine things thou art thought thro trewely twas un-to unto up-on voice weep whan whyl whyt wind wolde words wyde youth
Popular passages
Page 368 - twas but the wind, Or the car rattling o'er the stony street; On with the dance! let joy be unconfined; No sleep till morn, when Youth and Pleasure meet To chase the glowing Hours with flying feet.— But hark!
Page 344 - Tis sweeter far to me, To walk together to the kirk With a goodly company! — To walk together to the kirk, And all together pray, While each to his great Father bends, Old men, and babes, and loving friends, And youths and maidens gay ! Farewell, farewell!
Page 340 - But tell me, tell me! speak again, Thy soft response renewing— What makes that ship drive on so fast? What is the ocean doing?' Second Voice 'Still as a slave before his lord, The ocean hath no blast; His great bright eye most silently Up to the Moon is cast— If he may know which way to go; For she guides him smooth or grim. See, brother, see! how graciously She looketh down on him.
Page 319 - Shaped by himself with newly-learned art; A wedding or a festival, A mourning or a funeral; And this hath now his heart, And unto this he frames his song: Then will he fit his tongue To dialogues of business, love, or strife; But it will not be long Ere this be thrown aside, And with new joy and pride The little Actor cons another part; Filling from time to time his "humorous stage...
Page 292 - The immeasurable height Of woods decaying, never to be decayed, The stationary blasts of waterfalls, And in the narrow rent at every turn Winds thwarting winds, bewildered and forlorn, The torrents shooting from the clear blue sky, The rocks that muttered close upon our ears, Black drizzling crags that spake by the way-side As if a voice were in them, the sick sight And giddy prospect of the raving stream, The unfettered clouds and region of the Heavens, Tumult and peace, the darkness and the light...
Page 319 - Thou little Child, yet glorious in the might Of heaven-born freedom on thy being's height, Why with such earnest pains dost thou provoke The years to bring the inevitable yoke, Thus blindly with thy blessedness at strife? Full soon thy Soul shall have her earthly freight, And custom lie upon thee with a weight Heavy as frost, and deep almost as life!
Page 337 - My lips were wet, my throat was cold, My garments all were dank ; Sure I had drunken in my dreams, And still my body drank. I moved, and could not feel my limbs: I was so light — almost I thought that I had died in sleep, And was a blessed ghost.
Page 318 - But there's a Tree, of many, one, A single Field which I have looked upon, Both of them speak of something that is gone : The Pansy at my feet Doth the same tale repeat : Whither is fled the visionary gleam? Where is it now, the glory and the dream...
Page 369 - And Ardennes waves above them her green leaves, Dewy with nature's tear-drops as they pass, Grieving, if aught inanimate e'er grieves, Over the unreturning brave, - alas! Ere evening to be trodden like the grass Which now beneath them, but above shall grow In its next verdure, when this fiery mass Of living valour, rolling on the foe And burning with high hope shall moulder cold and low.
Page 338 - They groaned, they stirred, they all uprose, Nor spake, nor moved their eyes; It had been strange, even in a dream, To have seen those dead men rise. The helmsman steered, the ship moved on; Yet never a breeze...