 Love in my bosom like a bee Doth suck his sweet : Now with his wings he plays with me, Now with his feet. Within mine eyes he makes his nest, His bed amidst my tender breast ; My kisses are his daily feast, And yet he robs me of my rest. Ah, wanton, will...  Histoire de la littérature anglaise - Стр. 319авторы: Hippolyte Taine - 1863 - Страниц: 2409Полный просмотр - Подробнее о книге
 | William Beloe - 1807 - Страниц: 468
...his wings he plaies with me, Now wijh his feete. Within mine eyes he makes his nest, His bed amidst my tender breast, My kisses are his daily feast, And yet he robs me of my rest. Ah Wanton will ye ? And if I sleepe then pearcheth he With prettie flight, And makes his pillow... | |
 | William Beloe - 1807 - Страниц: 1054
...Mings lie plaits with ine4 Now wi^h liis feete. Wjthin mine eyes he makes his nest, His bed amidst my tender breast, My kisses are his daily feast, And yet he robs uic of my rest. AI An Ah Wanton will ye ? And if I sleepe.then pearcheth he With prettie flight, _... | |
 | John Bodenham - 1812 - Страниц: 318
...happy artifice of language, than Rosalind's Madrigal, beginning " Love in my bosom, like a bee, Doth suck his sweet : Now with his wings he plays with me, Now with his feet. Within mine eyes he makes his rest; His bed amidst my tender breast; My kisses are his daily feast ; And yet... | |
 | Sir Egerton Brydges - 1812 - Страниц: 502
...happy artifice of language, than Rosalind's Madrigal, beginning " Love in my bosom, like a bee, Doth suck his sweet : Now with his wings he plays with me, Now with his feet. Within mine eyes he makes his rest; His bed amidst my tender breast; My kisses are his daily feast ; And yet... | |
 | Sir Egerton Brydges, Joseph Haslewood - 1812 - Страниц: 316
...artifice of language, than Rosalind's Madrigal, beginning " Love in my bosom, like a bee, Doth stick his sweet : Now with his wings he plays with me, Now with his feet. Within mine eyes he makes his rtstj His bed amids-t my tender breast; My kisses are his- daily feast ; And... | |
 | Thomas Campbell - 1819 - Страниц: 432
...Cease to recite thy sacred name. ROSALIND'S MADRIGAL. FROM THE SAME. LOVE in my bosom, like a bee, Doth suck his sweet : Now with his wings he plays with me, Now with his feet : Within mine eyes he makes his nest, His bed amidst my tender breast ; My kisses are his daily feast, And yet... | |
 | Thomas Campbell - 1819 - Страниц: 420
...his wings he plays with me, Now with his feet : Within mine eyes he makes his nest, His bed amidst my tender breast ; My kisses are his daily feast, And yet he robs me of my rest : Ah, wanton, will ye ! And if I sleep, then pierceth he With pretty slight ; And makes his... | |
 | 1820 - Страниц: 442
...sweete ; Now with his wings he plays with me, Now with his feete. Within mine eyes he makes his nest, His bed amid my tender breast ; My kisses are his daily feast, And yet he robs me of my rest. Strike I my lute — he tunes the string, He music plays, if I so sing : He lends me every... | |
 | Reuben Percy - 1823 - Страниц: 432
...edition from which it is transcribed is believed to be unique. Within mine eyes he makes his nest, His bed amid my tender breast; My kisses are his daily feast, And yet he robs me of my rest. Strike I my lute—he tunes the string, He music plays, if I do sing; He lends me every living... | |
 | William Beloe, Thomas Fanshaw Middleton, William Rowe Lyall, Robert Nares - 1823 - Страниц: 700
...sweete ; Now with his wings he plays with me, Now with his feete. " Within mine eyes he makes his nest, His bed amid my tender breast ; My kisses are his daily feast, And yet he robs me of my rest. " Strike I my lute — he tunes the string, He music plays, if I do sing ; He lends me every... | |
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