The English Poets: Selections with Critical IntroductionsThomas Humphry Ward Macmillan, 1895 - English poetry |
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Results 6-10 of 83
Page 24
... lady swete : With worsë hap God lat us nevere mete ! ** * In suffisaunce , in blisse , and in syngynges , This Troilus gan al his lyf to lede : He spendeth , jousteth , maketh festeyinges , He yeveth frely ofte , and chaungeth wede2 ...
... lady swete : With worsë hap God lat us nevere mete ! ** * In suffisaunce , in blisse , and in syngynges , This Troilus gan al his lyf to lede : He spendeth , jousteth , maketh festeyinges , He yeveth frely ofte , and chaungeth wede2 ...
Page 28
... lady daunce ; And in that temple , with hire eyën clere , Me caughtë first my rightë lady deere . ' And yonder have I herd ful lustily My deerë herë laughe ; and yonder pleye Saugh Ich hire oonës ek ful blisfully ; And yonder oonës to ...
... lady daunce ; And in that temple , with hire eyën clere , Me caughtë first my rightë lady deere . ' And yonder have I herd ful lustily My deerë herë laughe ; and yonder pleye Saugh Ich hire oonës ek ful blisfully ; And yonder oonës to ...
Page 30
... lady deere , That absent was , gan synge as ye may here . ' O sterre , of which I lost have al the lightë , With herte soore wel oughte I to bewaylle , That ever derk in tormente , nyght by nyghtë , Towarde my deth , with wynde in ...
... lady deere , That absent was , gan synge as ye may here . ' O sterre , of which I lost have al the lightë , With herte soore wel oughte I to bewaylle , That ever derk in tormente , nyght by nyghtë , Towarde my deth , with wynde in ...
Page 31
... lady free , Or ellës yonder , ther the tentës bee , And thennes comth this eyr that is so soote1 , That in my soule I feele it doth me boote . ' And haidyly , this wynd that moore and moore Thus stoundemele 2 encresseth in my face , Is ...
... lady free , Or ellës yonder , ther the tentës bee , And thennes comth this eyr that is so soote1 , That in my soule I feele it doth me boote . ' And haidyly , this wynd that moore and moore Thus stoundemele 2 encresseth in my face , Is ...
Page 33
... lady honour kepe ; ' And with that word she braste anon to wepc . ' And certes , yow to haten shal I nevere , And frendës love , that shal ye han of me , And my good word , al shold I lyven evere ; And trewely I wol right sory be , For ...
... lady honour kepe ; ' And with that word she braste anon to wepc . ' And certes , yow to haten shal I nevere , And frendës love , that shal ye han of me , And my good word , al shold I lyven evere ; And trewely I wol right sory be , For ...
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Common terms and phrases
Aeneid Allas anon Astrophel and Stella ballads beauty Canterbury Tales Chaucer Clerk Saunders Confessio Amantis Criseyde death dede deth doth doun drede English eyes Faery Queen fair flour French gardyn Glasgerion Gower grace grene gret grete gude hart hast hath heart heaven herte hire honour king lady litel Lord lover Lydgate Lyoun mede mony myght never newë night nocht nought nyght Parlement of Foules Piers Plowman poem poet poetical poetry Quhat Quhen quhilk quod quoth rhyme royal sall saugh sayde schal sche scho Scotch seyde seyn shal sing song sonnets sorwe Spenser Stella story suld sweet swete swich thair thay thee ther thing thou thought thow thyn Timor Mortis conturbat trouthe Troylus tyme unto Venus verse watir whan wight wolde word write wyth
Popular passages
Page 453 - Full many a glorious morning have I seen Flatter the mountain-tops with sovereign eye, Kissing with golden face the meadows green, Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy; Anon permit the basest clouds to ride With ugly rack on his celestial face, And from the forlorn world his visage hide, Stealing unseen to west with this disgrace.
Page 460 - O, for my sake do you with Fortune chide, The guilty goddess of my harmful deeds, That did not better for my life provide, Than public means, which public manners breeds. Thence comes it that my name receives a brand, And almost thence my nature is subdued To what it works in, like the dyer's hand...
Page 454 - ... blessed key Can bring him to his sweet up-locked treasure, The which he will not every hour survey, For blunting the fine point of seldom pleasure. Therefore are feasts so solemn and so rare, Since, seldom coming, in the long year set, Like stones of worth they thinly placed are, Or captain jewels in the carcanet. So is the time that keeps you as my chest, Or as the wardrobe which the robe doth hide, To make some special instant special blest, By new unfolding his imprison'd pride.
Page 418 - With coral clasps and amber studs; And if these pleasures may thee move, Come live with me and be my love.
Page 452 - When in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes, I all alone beweep my outcast state, And trouble deaf Heaven with my bootless cries, And look upon myself, and curse my fate, Wishing me like to one more rich in hope, Featured like him, like him with friends possessed, Desiring this man's art, and that man's scope...
Page 450 - When lofty trees I see barren of leaves, Which erst from heat did canopy the herd, And summer's green all girded up in sheaves, Borne on the bier with white and bristly beard ; Then of thy beauty do I question make, ' for store, ie to be preserved for use.
Page 451 - Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate: Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, And summer's lease hath all too short a date...
Page 453 - If thou survive my well-contented day, When that churl Death my bones with dust shall cover, And shalt by fortune once more re-survey These poor rude lines of thy deceased lover, Compare them with the bettering of the time, And though they be outstripp'd by every pen, Reserve them for my love, not for their rime, Exceeded by the height of happier men.
Page 465 - Tu-whit, 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 roasted crabs hiss in the bowl, Then nightly sings the staring owl...
Page 533 - Clarence, in steel so bright, Though but a maiden knight, Yet in that furious fight, Scarce such another. Warwick in blood did wade, Oxford the foe invade, And cruel slaughter made, Still as they ran up; Suffolk his axe did ply, Beaumont and Willoughby Bare them right doughtily, Ferrers and Fanhope.