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Pagina 116
Yet was he servile to my coy disdain . Oh , be not proud , nor brag not of thy might , For mast'ring her that foil'd the god of fight ! 20 ' Touch but my lips with those fair lips of thine - Though mine be not so fair , yet are they ...
Yet was he servile to my coy disdain . Oh , be not proud , nor brag not of thy might , For mast'ring her that foil'd the god of fight ! 20 ' Touch but my lips with those fair lips of thine - Though mine be not so fair , yet are they ...
Pagina 131
Thy eyes ' shrewd tutor , that hard heart of thine , Hath taught them scornful tricks , and such disdain That they have murd'red this poor heart of mine ; And these mine eyes , true leaders to their queen , But for thy piteous lips no ...
Thy eyes ' shrewd tutor , that hard heart of thine , Hath taught them scornful tricks , and such disdain That they have murd'red this poor heart of mine ; And these mine eyes , true leaders to their queen , But for thy piteous lips no ...
Pagina 133
540 91 Till breathless he disjoin'd , and backward drew The heavenly moisture , that sweet coral mouth , Whose precious taste her thirsty lips well knew , Whereon they surfeit , yet complain on drouth . He with her plenty press'd ...
540 91 Till breathless he disjoin'd , and backward drew The heavenly moisture , that sweet coral mouth , Whose precious taste her thirsty lips well knew , Whereon they surfeit , yet complain on drouth . He with her plenty press'd ...
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Inhoudsopgave
INTRODUCTION page | 1 |
Spenser | 7 |
Scyllas Metamorphosis | 14 |
Copyright | |
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Adonis affect appear arms beauty believed birds blood breast breath cheeks course dead death delight desire divine doth ears earth Elizabethan Endymion eyes face fair fall fear feeling fire flower give Glaucus goddess gods gold golden grief ground hand hath head heart heaven Hero honour hope kind kiss Leander leave light lines lips live Lodge look love's lovers lust Marlowe means mind mortal move Muses Nature never night nymphs once Ovid passion Phoebe pity play pleasure poem poet poetry poor queen quoth rest Rosamond Scylla seems sense Shakespeare shame sighs sight sorrow soul spring stars story sweet tears tell thee things thou thought touch true turned unto Venus wanton Whilst wind women yield youth