Spencer to CrabbeOxford University Press, 1990 - English poetry |
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Page 270
... hell , a hell of heav'n . What matter where , if I be still the same , And what I should be , all but less than he Whom thunder hath made greater ? Here at least We shall be free ; th ' Almighty hath not built Here for his envy , will ...
... hell , a hell of heav'n . What matter where , if I be still the same , And what I should be , all but less than he Whom thunder hath made greater ? Here at least We shall be free ; th ' Almighty hath not built Here for his envy , will ...
Page 298
... Hell - born , not to contend with Spirits of heav'n . ' To whom the goblin full of wrath replied : ' Art thou that traitor angel , art thou he , Who first broke peace in heav'n and faith , till then Unbroken , and in proud rebellious ...
... Hell - born , not to contend with Spirits of heav'n . ' To whom the goblin full of wrath replied : ' Art thou that traitor angel , art thou he , Who first broke peace in heav'n and faith , till then Unbroken , and in proud rebellious ...
Page 308
... hell ; myself am hell ; And in the lowest deep a lower deep Still threat'ning to devour me opens wide , To which the hell I suffer seems a heav'n . O then at last relent : is there no place Left for repentance , none for pardon left ...
... hell ; myself am hell ; And in the lowest deep a lower deep Still threat'ning to devour me opens wide , To which the hell I suffer seems a heav'n . O then at last relent : is there no place Left for repentance , none for pardon left ...
Contents
SIR WALTER RALEIGH 15521618 | 33 |
FULKE GREVILLE LORD BROOKE 15541628 | 49 |
GEORGE CHAPMAN 15601634 | 54 |
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arms art thou beauty behold blessed blood breast breath bright Cæsar charms Coriolanus crown dark dead dear death deep delight dost doth dreadful earth eyes face fair fame fate fear fire flames flowers fools gentle give glory gold grace grave Greensleeves grief hand hast hath head hear heart heaven Hecuba hell honour king kiss Lady light limbeck lips live look lord loue love's Lycidas lyre mind Muse Nature ne'er never night numbers nymph o'er pain peace pity pleasure poison'd praise pride rage rest round Saint CRISPIN's day Satan scape scorn shade sigh sight sing Sir Patrick Spens sleep smile soft song sorrow soul speak spirit stood sweet Sycorax tears tell thee thine things thou art thou hast thought Twas unto weep wind wings wyllowe youth