Anecdotes of Literature and Scarce Books, Volume 2F. C. & J. Rivington, 1807 - Bibliography |
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Page 20
... pretie birds about her bowre , Sing pretie birds , she may not lowre . Ah me , me thinkes I see her frowne , Ye pretie wantons warble . Go tell her through your chirping billes , As you by me are bidden , To her is only knowne my love ...
... pretie birds about her bowre , Sing pretie birds , she may not lowre . Ah me , me thinkes I see her frowne , Ye pretie wantons warble . Go tell her through your chirping billes , As you by me are bidden , To her is only knowne my love ...
Page 21
William Beloe. O flie , make haste , see see she falles Into a pretie slumber ; Sing round about her rosie bed , That waking she may wonder ; Say to her tis her lover true , That sendeth love to you to you ; And when you heare her kinde ...
William Beloe. O flie , make haste , see see she falles Into a pretie slumber ; Sing round about her rosie bed , That waking she may wonder ; Say to her tis her lover true , That sendeth love to you to you ; And when you heare her kinde ...
Page 33
... pretie person we may compare to Lais , A morsel for princes and nobler kynges , In beautie you excell the fayre ladie Thais , You excede the beautifull Helene in all thyngs , To behold your face who can be wearie ? Hoigh my Mistresse ...
... pretie person we may compare to Lais , A morsel for princes and nobler kynges , In beautie you excell the fayre ladie Thais , You excede the beautifull Helene in all thyngs , To behold your face who can be wearie ? Hoigh my Mistresse ...
Page 46
... pretie little Besse , Come over the boorne Besse to me . The white dove set on the castell wall , I bend my bow , and shoote her I shall ; I put hir in my glove , both fethers and all , I layd my bridle upon the shelfe , If you will any ...
... pretie little Besse , Come over the boorne Besse to me . The white dove set on the castell wall , I bend my bow , and shoote her I shall ; I put hir in my glove , both fethers and all , I layd my bridle upon the shelfe , If you will any ...
Page 47
... pretie Nightingale , There dwelleth a jolly Foster here by the West , Also , I com to drink som of your Christmas ale . Whan I walke by my selfe alone , It doth me good my songs to render . In another part of the same Play , the Fool ...
... pretie Nightingale , There dwelleth a jolly Foster here by the West , Also , I com to drink som of your Christmas ale . Whan I walke by my selfe alone , It doth me good my songs to render . In another part of the same Play , the Fool ...
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Other editions - View all
Common terms and phrases
agayne Anno Anno Domini Archbishop Hamilton Bible Bishop's Bible black letter British Museum called Church Yard copy curious dayes death delight discourse divers doth Duke of Roxburgh edition England English EPIG flie foole GABRIEL HARVEY Garrick collection Gent Gentlemen George GEORGE GASCOIGNE George Peele grace hath haue Henry History holy honorable Imprinted at London inscribed John King Lady late learned London Lord Maister Majesties mery MUSICKE mynde never night noble Octavo pittie pleasant Poem Poet pretie Printed Printer quæ Queene quoth rare reader Robert Greene Rondeau Roxburgh collection Royal sayd Scotland shew sing singular sold SONG sonne specimen subjoin sundry sunne sweet Testament thee theyr thing Thomas Thomas Lodge thou thought thynges Tract translated tyme unto verses vertue vnto volume vpon wanton Wherein worthy writing written wyll yeres
Popular passages
Page 128 - Quicquid agunt homines, votum, timor, ira, voluptas, Gaudia, discursus, nostri farrago libelli est.
Page 363 - Yok'd with a slow-foot ox on fallow field, Can right areed how handsomely besets Dull spondees with the English dactylets. If Jove speak English in a thundring cloud, " Thwick thwack," and " riff raff," roars he out aloud. Fie on the forged mint that did create New coin of words never articulate.
Page 120 - 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 ye?
Page 37 - Then, nymphs, take vantage while ye may; And this is Love, as I hear say. Yet what is Love, good shepherd, show? , A thing that creeps, it cannot go, A prize that passeth to and fro, A thing for one, a thing for moe, And he that proves shall find it so; And shepherd, this is Love, I trow.
Page 79 - ... plains? Ah, sweet Content, where dost thou safely rest ? In heaven, with Angels which the praises sing Of Him that made and rules at his behest The minds and hearts of every living thing ? Ah, sweet Content, where doth thine harbour hold ? Is it in churches with religious men Which please the gods with prayers manifold, And in their studies meditate it then ? Whether thou dost in heaven or earth appear, Be where thou wilt, thou wilt not harbour here.
Page 191 - WEEP not, my wanton, smile upon my knee, When thou art old there's grief enough for thee. Mother's wag, pretty boy, Father's sorrow, father's joy ; When thy father first did see Such a boy by him and me, He was glad, I was woe, Fortune changed made him so, When he left his pretty boy Last his sorrow, first his joy.
Page 318 - Languages. With Arguments of Bookes and Chapters, Annotations and other necessarie Helpes for the better understanding of the Text, and specially for the Discoverie of the Corruptions of divers late Translations, and for cleering the Controversies in Religion of these Daies.
Page 122 - Even on the brink I hear him sing; If so I meditate alone, He will be partner of my moan; If so I mourn, he weeps with me, And where I am there will he be.
Page 121 - I'll make you fast it for your sin, I'll count your power not worth a pin, Alas ! what hereby shall I win, If he gainsay me? What if I beat the wanton boy With many a rod ? He will repay me with annoy, Because a god. Then sit thou...
Page 121 - I'll count your power not worth a pin: Alas, what hereby shall I win, If he gainsay me ? What if I beat the wanton boy With many a rod ? He will repay me with annoy, Because a god. Then sit thou safely on my knee, And let thy bower my bosom be, Lurk in mine eyes, I like of thee; O Cupid, so thou pity me, Spare not, but play thee.