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" Jug, jug, jug, jug, tereu ! she cries, And still her woes at midnight rise. Brave prick-song ! Who is't now we hear ? None but the lark so shrill and clear ; Now at heaven's gate she claps her wings, The morn not waking till she sings. "
Dramatic Works of John Ford ... - Page 378
by John Ford - 1827
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The Columbia Granger's Dictionary of Poetry Quotations

Edith P. Hazen - Reference - 1992 - 1132 pages
...nightingale! "Jug, jug, jug, jug, tereu," she cries, And still her woes at midnight rise. Brave prick-song! 1 ] 1 1 4 Hark, hark, with what a pretty throat Poor robin-redbreast tunes his note; Hark, how the jolly cuckoos...
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John Lyly: Selected Prose and Dramatic Work

John Lyly - Literary Criticism - 2003 - 216 pages
...nightingale. Jug, jug, jug, jug, Tereu, she cries, And still her woes at midnight rise. 40 Brave prick-song! - Who is't now we hear? None but the lark so shrill and clear. How at heaven's gate she claps her wings, The morn not waking till she sings. Hark, hark, with what a pretty throat...
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The British Quarterly Review, Volume 23

Henry Allon - Christianity - 1856
...so sings, yet so does wail ? O 'tis the ravished nightingale. Jug, jug, jug, jug, tereu, she cries, And still her woes at midnight rise. Brave prick song ! who is't now we hear ? None hut the lark so shrill and clear ; Now at heaven's gates she claps her wings, The morn not waking till...
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Poet Lore, Volume 15

Literature - 1904
...sweet, arise, Arise, Arise.' Lyly, Queen Elizabeth's Court dramatist, echoes Shakespeare's strain, 'Who is't now we hear? None but the lark so shrill and clear; Now at heaven's gate she claps her wings, The morn not waking till she sings.' Herrick, 'Fresh as Spring,...
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The Poet's Craft A Course in the Critical Appreaciation of Poetry

Arthur Finley Scott - English poetry - 1957 - 219 pages
...nightingale. 'Jug, jug, jug, jug, tereu', she cries, And still her woes at midnight rise. Brave prick-song! who is't now we hear? None but the lark so shrill and clear; Now at heaven's gates she claps her wings, The morn not waking till she sings. Hark, hark, with what...
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The British Quarterly Review, Volume 23

Henry Allon - Christianity - 1856
...Jug. Ju.g. Jug. Jug. tereu; sh.e cries> And still her woes at midnight rise. Brave prick song ! wto is't now we hear ? None but the lark so shrill and clear ; Now at heaven's gates she claps her wings, The morn not waking till she sings. Hark, hark, with what...
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