Spenser: Book 1 of the Faery Queene

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Clarendon Press, 1879 - 251 pages
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Page 1 - And on his brest a bloodie Crosse he bore, The deare remembrance of his dying Lord, For whose sweete sake that glorious badge he wore, And dead, as living, ever him ador'd : Upon his shield the like was also scor'd, For soveraine hope which in his helpe he had.
Page xxv - In that Faery Queene I meane glory in my generall intention, but in my particular I conceive the most excellent and glorious person of our soveraine the Queene, and her kingdome in Faery land.
Page 2 - Behind her farre away a Dwarfe did lag, That lasie seemd, in being ever last, Or wearied with bearing of her bag Of needments at his backe.
Page 2 - A lovely Ladie rode him faire beside, Upon a lowly Asse more white then snow. Yet she much whiter ; but the same did hide Under a vele, that wimpled was full low...
Page 164 - Abhorred Styx, the flood of deadly hate; Sad Acheron, of sorrow, black and deep; Cocytus, named of lamentation loud Heard on the rueful stream; fierce Phlegethon, Whose waves of torrent fire inflame with rage.
Page 11 - And, more, to lulle him in his slumber soft, A trickling streame from high rock tumbling downe, And ever-drizling raine upon the loft, Mixt with a murmuring winde, much like the sowne Of swarming bees, did cast him in a swowne : No other noyse, nor peoples troublous cryes, As still are wont t' annoy the walled towne, Might there be heard: but carelesse Quiet lyes, Wrapt in eternall silence farre from enimyes.
Page 1 - A GENTLE Knight was pricking on the plaine, Ycladd in mightie armes and silver shielde, Wherein old dints of deepe woundes did remaine, The cruell markes of many a bloody fielde ; Yet armes till that time did he never wield : His angry steede did chide his foming bitt, As much disdayning to the curbe to yield : Full jolly knight he seemd, and faire did sitt, As one for knightly giusts and fierce encounters fitt.
Page 23 - Hunting full greedy after salvage blood. Soone as the royall virgin he did spy, With gaping mouth at her ran greedily, To have attonce devourd her tender corse ; But to the pray when as he drew more ny, His bloody rage aswaged with remorse, And, with the sight amazd, forgat his furious forse.
Page 110 - Come, come away, fraile, feeble, fleshly wight, Ne let vaine words bewitch thy manly hart, Ne divelish thoughts dismay thy constant spright. In heavenly mercies hast thou not a part? Why shouldst thou then despeire, that chosen art?
Page xxvi - Queene to assygne her some one of her knights to take on him that exployt. Presently that clownish person, upstarting, desired that adventure : whereat the Queene much wondering, and the Lady much gainesaying, yet he earnestly importuned his desire.

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