The Poems of Robert Greene, Christopher Marlowe, and Ben JonsonG. Bell & sons, 1878 - Всего страниц: 544 |
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Стр. 32
... tell me , of what ancient pedigree . TH VERSES . UNDER THE PICTURE OF FORTUNE . ' HE fickle seat whereon proud Fortune sits , The restless globe whereon the fury stands , Bewrays her fond and far inconstant fits ; The fruitful horn she ...
... tell me , of what ancient pedigree . TH VERSES . UNDER THE PICTURE OF FORTUNE . ' HE fickle seat whereon proud Fortune sits , The restless globe whereon the fury stands , Bewrays her fond and far inconstant fits ; The fruitful horn she ...
Стр. 41
... tell the sweet , or tell the secret pain . Yet I that have been ' prentice to the grief , Like to the cunning sea - man from afar , By guess will take the beauty of that star , Whose influence must yield me chief relief . You censors of ...
... tell the sweet , or tell the secret pain . Yet I that have been ' prentice to the grief , Like to the cunning sea - man from afar , By guess will take the beauty of that star , Whose influence must yield me chief relief . You censors of ...
Стр. 43
... tell : Sweet censors , take my silly worst for well ; My faith is firm , though homely be my lay . WH MELICERTUS ' ECLOGUE . WHAT need compare , where sweet exceeds compare ? Who draws his thoughts of love from senseless Their pomp and ...
... tell : Sweet censors , take my silly worst for well ; My faith is firm , though homely be my lay . WH MELICERTUS ' ECLOGUE . WHAT need compare , where sweet exceeds compare ? Who draws his thoughts of love from senseless Their pomp and ...
Стр. 52
... tell his care . The shepherd blushed when Phillis questioned so , And swore by Pan it was not for his flocks ; " Tis love , fair Phillis , breedeth all this woe , My thoughts are trapped within thy lovely locks , Thine eye hath pierced ...
... tell his care . The shepherd blushed when Phillis questioned so , And swore by Pan it was not for his flocks ; " Tis love , fair Phillis , breedeth all this woe , My thoughts are trapped within thy lovely locks , Thine eye hath pierced ...
Стр. 60
... hearts to break , Words most sweet , for breath was sweet Such perfume for love is meet , Precious words , as hard to tell Which more pleased , wit or smell ; When I saw my greatest pains Grow for her that 60 ROBERT GREENE . FRANCESCO'S.
... hearts to break , Words most sweet , for breath was sweet Such perfume for love is meet , Precious words , as hard to tell Which more pleased , wit or smell ; When I saw my greatest pains Grow for her that 60 ROBERT GREENE . FRANCESCO'S.
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Часто встречающиеся слова и выражения
Alexis beauty bel ami Ben Jonson blood breath bright Cæsar called CARMELA CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE coloured Coridon court COVENT GARDEN crown death delight desire doth Earl earth Edition English Engravings epigram EURYMACHUS eyes face fair fame fate fear fire flame flowers follies fortune GEORGE BELL Gifford grace Greene Greene's grief hair hast hath heart heaven Hero Hero and Leander History honour Hymen Jonson king kiss lady Leander light live look Lord love's lovers Marlowe masques MELICERTUS Memoir mind mistress muse N'oserez never night nymph Perimedes Phillis Phoebus piece play poems poet Pompey Portrait praise Queen repentance Richard Brome Robert Greene Shakspeare shepherd shine sighs sing smile song sorrow soul swain sweet Tamburlaine tears tell thee Thessaly thine thou art thought Translated unto Venus verse virtue vols vows wanton Wherein youth
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Стр. 399 - The applause! delight! the wonder of our stage! My Shakespeare, rise ; I will not lodge thee by Chaucer, or Spenser, or bid Beaumont lie A little further, to make thee a room : Thou art a monument, without a tomb, And art alive still, while thy book doth live, And we have wits to read, and praise to give.
Стр. 26 - ... supposes he is as well able to bombast out a blank verse as the best of you; and being an absolute Johannes factotum, is in his own conceit the only Shake-scene in a country.
Стр. 232 - With coral clasps and amber studs ; And if these pleasures may thee move, Come live with me and be my love.
Стр. 271 - I behold like a Spanish great galleon and an English man-of-war. Master Coleridge, like the former, was built far higher in learning, solid, but slow in his performances. CVL, with the English man-of-war, lesser in bulk, but lighter in sailing, could turn with all tides, tack about, and take advantage of all winds, by the quickness of his wit and invention.
Стр. 231 - And we will all the pleasures prove That hills and valleys, dale and field, And all the craggy mountains yield. There will we sit upon the rocks And see the shepherds feed their flocks, By shallow rivers, to whose falls Melodious birds sing madrigals.
Стр. 158 - At Sestos Hero dwelt ; Hero the fair, Whom young Apollo courted for her hair. And offered as a dower his burning throne, Where she should sit, for men to gaze upon. The outside of her garments were of lawn, The lining purple silk, with gilt stars drawn ; Her wide sleeves green, and bordered with a grove, Where Venus in her naked glory strove To please the careless and disdainful eyes Of proud Adonis, that before her lies ; Her kirtle blue, whereon was many a stain, Made with the blood of wretched...
Стр. 334 - Weep with me, all you that read This little story ; And know, for whom a tear you shed Death's self is sorry. 'Twas a child that so did thrive In grace and feature, As Heaven and Nature seemed to strive Which owned the creature.
Стр. 399 - Euripides, and Sophocles to us; Pacuvius, Accius, him of Cordova dead, To life again, to hear thy buskin tread, And shake a stage ; or, when thy socks were on, Leave thee alone for the comparison Of all that insolent Greece or haughty Rome Sent forth, or since did from their ashes come.
Стр. 382 - Do but look on her eyes, they do light All that Love's world compriseth ! Do but look on her hair, it is bright As Love's star when it riseth ! Do but mark, her forehead's smoother...
Стр. 230 - The rest complain of cares to come. The flowers do fade, and wanton fields To wayward Winter reckoning yields^ A honey tongue, a heart of gall, Is fancy's spring, but sorrow's fall. Thy gowns, thy shoes, thy beds of roses. Thy cap, thy kirtle...