Hausschatz englischer Poesie: Auswahl aus den Werken der bedeutendsten englischen Dichter von Chaucer bis auf die neueste Zeit, in chronologischer Ordnung begleitet von biographischen und literarischen Einleitungen. Ein Handbuch der englischen Poesie und igrer GeschichteH. Costenoble, 1852 - 399 pages |
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Page 6
... grief with game ; The boyling smoke dyd still bewray , The present heate of secret flame : And when salt teares do bayne my breast , Where love his pleasent traynes hath sowen , Her beauty hath the fruytes opprest , Ere that the buddes ...
... grief with game ; The boyling smoke dyd still bewray , The present heate of secret flame : And when salt teares do bayne my breast , Where love his pleasent traynes hath sowen , Her beauty hath the fruytes opprest , Ere that the buddes ...
Page 8
... grief still will I waile : Sith you will needs flie me , I maie not comme ny you . Woemen . If woemen coulde be fayre and yet not fonde , Or that theyre Love were firme not fickle still , I would not mervaylle that they make me bonde By ...
... grief still will I waile : Sith you will needs flie me , I maie not comme ny you . Woemen . If woemen coulde be fayre and yet not fonde , Or that theyre Love were firme not fickle still , I would not mervaylle that they make me bonde By ...
Page 16
... grief , And curs'd the access of that celestial thief ! The Lye . Goe , soule , the bodies guest , Upon a thankelesse arrant ; Feare not to touche the best , The truth shall be thy warrant : Goe , since I needs must dye , And give the ...
... grief , And curs'd the access of that celestial thief ! The Lye . Goe , soule , the bodies guest , Upon a thankelesse arrant ; Feare not to touche the best , The truth shall be thy warrant : Goe , since I needs must dye , And give the ...
Page 52
... Grief , That in his anger he might smite life down With his iron fist : good heart ! it seemeth then , They laugh to see grief kill me : O fond Men , You laugh at others tears ; when others smile , You tear yourselves in pieces : vile ...
... Grief , That in his anger he might smite life down With his iron fist : good heart ! it seemeth then , They laugh to see grief kill me : O fond Men , You laugh at others tears ; when others smile , You tear yourselves in pieces : vile ...
Page 53
... grief : and to my thoughts did read. Philaster. ;. or. ,. Love. lies. a. bleeding . The. prettiest. lecture. of. his. country. art. A Tragi - Comedy . By Francis Beau- mont and John Fletcher . Philaster tells the Princess Arethusa how he ...
... grief : and to my thoughts did read. Philaster. ;. or. ,. Love. lies. a. bleeding . The. prettiest. lecture. of. his. country. art. A Tragi - Comedy . By Francis Beau- mont and John Fletcher . Philaster tells the Princess Arethusa how he ...
Autres éditions - Tout afficher
Hausschatz englischer Poesie: Auswahl aus den Werken der bedeutendsten ... Oskar Ludwig Bernhard Wolff Affichage du livre entier - 1852 |
Hausschatz englischer Poesie: Hg. von H. A. Manitius Oscar Ludw. Bernh Wolff Affichage du livre entier - 1852 |
Expressions et termes fréquents
Allan Cunningham beauty beneath bosom breast breath bright brow charms cheek clouds Corb dead dear death delight Dichter doth dream durch earth Edinburg englischen erhielt erschienen eyes fair Faustus fear flowers frae Francis Beaumont geboren Gedichte Gefühl gentle gest glory grace grave green grief Grongar Hill hand happy hast hath hear heart heaven hour Jahre Kilmeny Leben lebte Leistungen light live London look Lord maid morn Muse ne'er never night nymph o'er pain pale pleasure Poesie Poesieen poetischen Prosaist rose round seine seinen shade sigh sind sing sleep smile soft song sorrow soul später spirit spring star starb stream studirte sunne sweet tears tell thee thine thou art thought trat Twas unto viele ward wave weep Werke wieder wild wind wings wurde wyllowe youth Zeit zuerst
Fréquemment cités
Page 283 - Ode to a Nightingale MY heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk, Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk...
Page 283 - Away! away! for I will fly to thee, Not charioted by Bacchus and his pards, But on the viewless wings of Poesy, Though the dull brain perplexes and retards: Already with thee!
Page 283 - As she is famed to do, deceiving elf. Adieu ! adieu ! thy plaintive anthem fades Past the near meadows, over the still stream, Up the hill-side; and now 'tis buried deep In the next valley-glades : Was it a vision, or a waking dream? Fled is that music: — do I wake or sleep?
Page 285 - Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store? Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find Thee sitting careless on a granary floor, Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind; Or on a half-reap'd furrow sound asleep, Drowsed with the fume of poppies, while thy hook Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers...
Page 87 - Go, lovely Rose ! Tell her, that wastes her time and me, That now she knows, When I resemble her to thee, How sweet and fair she seems to be. Tell her that's young And shuns to have her graces spied, That hadst thou sprung In deserts, where no men abide, Thou must have uncommended died. Small is the worth Of beauty from the light retired: Bid her come forth, Suffer herself to be desired, And not blush so to be admired. Then die ! that she The common fate of all things rare May read in thee...
Page 251 - HAIL to thee, blithe spirit ! Bird thou never wert, That from heaven, or near it, Pourest thy full heart In profuse strains of unpremeditated art. Higher still and higher From the earth thou springest Like a cloud of fire; The blue deep thou wingest, And singing still dost soar, and soaring ever singest. In the golden lightning Of the sunken sun, O'er which clouds are brightning, Thou dost float and run; Like an unbodied joy whose race is just begun.
Page 200 - Solitude ! where are the charms That sages have seen in thy face ? Better dwell in the midst of alarms, Than reign in this horrible place. 1 am out of humanity's reach, I must finish my journey alone ; Never hear the sweet music of speech, — I start at the sound of my own. The beasts that roam over the plain My form with indifference see ; They are so unacquainted with man, Their tameness is shocking to me.
Page 126 - IT must be so — Plato, thou reason'st well ! — Else whence this pleasing hope, this fond desire, This longing after immortality ? Or whence this secret dread, and inward horror, Of falling into nought ? why shrinks the soul Back on herself, and startles at destruction ? 'Tis the divinity that stirs within us ; 'Tis heaven itself, that points out an hereafter, And intimates eternity to man.
Page 320 - Ye Mariners of England ! That guard our native seas, — Whose flag has braved a thousand years The battle and the breeze, — Your glorious standard launch again, To match another foe ; And sweep through the deep While the stormy winds do blow...
Page 189 - To them his heart, his love, his griefs were given, But all his serious thoughts had rest in Heaven. As some tall cliff, that lifts its awful form, Swells from the vale and midway leaves the storm, Though round its breast the rolling clouds are spread, Eternal sunshine settles on its head.