The Works of the British Poets: With Lives of the Authors, Volume 29Ezekiel Sanford, Robert Walsh Mitchell, Ames, and White, 1822 - English poetry |
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Page v
... Manne , Womanne , Syr Elinoure and Juga , Bristowe Tragedie ; or the Dethe of Syr 144 • 148 Charles Bawdin , Ælla , a Tragycal Enterlude , 153 . 169 · Battle of Hastings , 237 A Hymn for Christmas day , 285 Glossary , . 287 SELECT POEMS ...
... Manne , Womanne , Syr Elinoure and Juga , Bristowe Tragedie ; or the Dethe of Syr 144 • 148 Charles Bawdin , Ælla , a Tragycal Enterlude , 153 . 169 · Battle of Hastings , 237 A Hymn for Christmas day , 285 Glossary , . 287 SELECT POEMS ...
Page xiii
... Manne , Womanne , Syr Rogerre , 144 Eclogue the Fourth . Elinoure and Juga , Bristowe Tragedie ; or the Dethe of Syr 148 Charles Bawdin , 153 Ælla , a Tragycal Enterlude , 169 Battle of Hastings , 237 A Hymn for Christmas day , 285 ...
... Manne , Womanne , Syr Rogerre , 144 Eclogue the Fourth . Elinoure and Juga , Bristowe Tragedie ; or the Dethe of Syr 148 Charles Bawdin , 153 Ælla , a Tragycal Enterlude , 169 Battle of Hastings , 237 A Hymn for Christmas day , 285 ...
Page 144
... MANNE . WOMANNE . SIR ROGERRE . WOULDST thou kenn Nature in her better parte ? Goe , serche the legges and bordelst of the hynde ; Giff theie have anie , itte ys roughe - made arte , Inne hem you see the blakied ‡ forme of kynde ...
... MANNE . WOMANNE . SIR ROGERRE . WOULDST thou kenn Nature in her better parte ? Goe , serche the legges and bordelst of the hynde ; Giff theie have anie , itte ys roughe - made arte , Inne hem you see the blakied ‡ forme of kynde ...
Page 145
... MANNE . Syr Rogerre , the parsone , have hyred mee there , Comme , comme lett us tryppe ytte awaie , We'lle wurke and we'lle synge , and weylle dren- che of stronge beer As longe as the merrie sommers daie . WOMANNE . How harde ys mie ...
... MANNE . Syr Rogerre , the parsone , have hyred mee there , Comme , comme lett us tryppe ytte awaie , We'lle wurke and we'lle synge , and weylle dren- che of stronge beer As longe as the merrie sommers daie . WOMANNE . How harde ys mie ...
Page 146
... MANNE . All - a - boon , * syr priest , all - a - boon . Bye yer preetschype nowe saye unto mee ; Sir Gaufryd the knyghte , who lyvethe harde bie , Whie shoulde he than mee Bee moe greate , Inne honnoure , knyghtehoode and estate ? SYR ...
... MANNE . All - a - boon , * syr priest , all - a - boon . Bye yer preetschype nowe saye unto mee ; Sir Gaufryd the knyghte , who lyvethe harde bie , Whie shoulde he than mee Bee moe greate , Inne honnoure , knyghtehoode and estate ? SYR ...
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Common terms and phrases
Ælla Alfwold arrowe atque Augustus Henry Fitzroy ayre Bard BIRTHA bloude Botte brave Canynge Catcott CELMONDE Chatterton daie death dethe doth Dryden's dryve duke dydd eche Eclogue Edward Eirin enthoughte everych eyes eyne fate fayre fell flie fyghte fyre Godde grace Gray Gray's ground Gyrthe harte heart Heaven hedde javlyn kenne knyghte Kynge Harolde lette Lord Lyche lyfe lyghte Lyke lyve maie manne Margaret of Anjou menne mind Muse myghte mynstrelles nete Normannes notte numbers o'er ODIN onne Petrarch Pindar playne poem poet Poetry praise PROPHETESS quæ Quod saie seyncte sheelde skie song sonnes soul spryte stanza Sunne Supremely gracious Deity swerde syde syghte synge syr Charles tear thanne thatt thee theie Thenne theyr thie thou thought thro uponne warre Whanne Whatte whyche wyfe wylle wynged wythe XXIX ynne ytte
Popular passages
Page 45 - For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn Or busy housewife ply her evening care: No children run to lisp their sire's return, Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share. Oft did the harvest to their sickle yield, Their furrow oft the stubborn glebe has broke; How jocund did they drive their team afield! How bow'd the woods beneath their sturdy stroke!
Page 23 - Fair laughs the morn, and soft the zephyr blows, While proudly riding o'er the azure realm In gallant trim the gilded vessel goes; Youth on the prow, and Pleasure at the helm; Regardless of the sweeping whirlwind's sway, That, hush'd in grim repose, expects his evening prey.
Page 45 - Full many a gem of purest ray serene The dark unfathom'd caves of ocean bear ; Full many a flower is born to blush unseen, And waste its sweetness on the desert air. Some village Hampden, that with dauntless breast The little tyrant of his fields withstood, Some mute inglorious Milton here may rest, Some Cromwell, guiltless of his country's blood.
Page 45 - Each in his narrow cell for ever laid, The rude Forefathers of the hamlet sleep. The breezy call of incense-breathing morn, The swallow twittering from the straw-built shed, The cock's shrill clarion, or the echoing horn, No more shall rouse them from their lowly bed.
Page 16 - Where each old poetic mountain Inspiration breathed around ; Every shade and hallow'd fountain Murmur'd deep a solemn sound : Till the sad Nine, in Greece's evil hour Left their Parnassus for the Latian plains.
Page 47 - There at the foot of yonder nodding beech, That wreathes its old fantastic roots so high, His listless length at noontide would he stretch, And pore upon the brook that babbles by. " Hard by yon wood, now smiling as in scorn, Muttering his wayward fancies he would rove ; Now drooping, woeful-wan, like one forlorn, Or craz'd with care, or cross'd in hopeless love.
Page 14 - That every labouring sinew strains, Those in the deeper vitals rage : Lo, Poverty, to fill the band, That numbs the soul with icy hand And slow-consuming Age. To each his sufferings : all are men, Condemn'd alike to groan ; The tender for another's pain, Th
Page 48 - He gained from heaven ('twas all he wished) a friend. No farther seek his merits to disclose, Or draw his frailties from their dread abode, (There they alike in trembling hope repose) The bosom of his father and his God.
Page 45 - Perhaps in this neglected spot is laid Some heart once pregnant with celestial fire ; Hands, that the rod of empire might have swayed, Or waked to ecstasy the living lyre.
Page 15 - And from her own she learn'd to melt at others' woe. Scared at thy frown terrific, fly Self-pleasing Folly's idle brood, Wild Laughter, Noise, and thoughtless Joy, And leave us leisure to be good. Light they disperse, and with them go The summer Friend, the flattering Foe ; By vain Prosperity received To her they vow their truth, and are again believed.