Greene's Philomela. Greene's Arcadia. Southwell's The triumphs over death. Breton's Characters, and his Good and bad. Nash's Christ's tears over JerusalemFrom the private Press of Longman, Hurst, Rees, Orme, and Brown, printed by T. Davison, 1815 |
Dentro del libro
Resultados 1-5 de 56
Página vii
... once very popular . Some of his pieces are become extremely rare . His Essays on the Five Senses ( which is perhaps the only Tract in this Collection of less uncommon occurrence ) deserves perusal : but it does not seem necessary to the ...
... once very popular . Some of his pieces are become extremely rare . His Essays on the Five Senses ( which is perhaps the only Tract in this Collection of less uncommon occurrence ) deserves perusal : but it does not seem necessary to the ...
Página viii
... once again to the press with a labour of love , which I hatched long ago , though now brought forth to light . If the printer had not been , I would have had it thrust out as an orphan , without any name to father it : but at his ...
... once again to the press with a labour of love , which I hatched long ago , though now brought forth to light . If the printer had not been , I would have had it thrust out as an orphan , without any name to father it : but at his ...
Página 23
... once again to his standish , and wrote under this following sonnet . Natura nihil frustra . On women Nature did bestow two eyes , Like Hemian's bright lamps , in matchless beauty shining , Whose beams do soonest captivate the wise And ...
... once again to his standish , and wrote under this following sonnet . Natura nihil frustra . On women Nature did bestow two eyes , Like Hemian's bright lamps , in matchless beauty shining , Whose beams do soonest captivate the wise And ...
Página 26
... once looked into , and found lascivious , thou wilt grow into as great contempt with thy familiars as now thou art honoured amongst strangers . Hadst thou none answerable to thine appetite but PHILOMELA ? nor none to wrong but PHILIPPO ...
... once looked into , and found lascivious , thou wilt grow into as great contempt with thy familiars as now thou art honoured amongst strangers . Hadst thou none answerable to thine appetite but PHILOMELA ? nor none to wrong but PHILIPPO ...
Página 29
... once again , LUTESIO , and for my life thou shalt find calmer words and sweeter lines . " LUTESIO , with his eyes full of choler , made him this answer . “ PHILIPPO , if thou beest so sottish , with Cephalus to betray thy wife's honour ...
... once again , LUTESIO , and for my life thou shalt find calmer words and sweeter lines . " LUTESIO , with his eyes full of choler , made him this answer . “ PHILIPPO , if thou beest so sottish , with Cephalus to betray thy wife's honour ...
Otras ediciones - Ver todas
Greene's Philomela. Greene's Arcadia. Southwell's The triumphs over death ... Sir Egerton Brydges Vista de fragmentos - 1815 |
Términos y frases comunes
ambition amongst Arcadia Atheists beauty began blood CARMELA Christ conceit conscience court daughter dead death delight DEMOCLES desire devil discontent disdain DORON doth Duke Duke of Milan Earl ears earth enemy eyes fair favour fear folly fortune fruit Gabriel Harvey gather Genoese gentleman glory God's grace grief hand hath hear heart heaven hell honour hope humour husband Jerusalem judgment king labour lady LAMEDON lest live London look Lord LUTESIO MELICERTUS MENAPHON mercy mind misery mistress nature never NICHOLAS BRETON passion patience PESANA PHILIPPO PHILOMELA PLEUSIDIPPUS poor praise pride Private Press quoth repentance revenge rich ROBERT GREENE ROBERT SOUTHWELL saith SAMELA SEPHESTIA shepherd shew sith sorrow soul spirit stones sweet sword tears Thessaly thine thing thou art thou hast thou shalt thou wouldst thought thyself vain-glory Venice Venus virtue wanton wherein wife words worthy
Pasajes populares
Página 4 - O, how much more doth beauty beauteous seem By that sweet ornament which truth doth give! The rose looks fair, but fairer we it deem For that sweet odour which doth in it live. The canker-blooms have full as deep a dye As the perfumed tincture of the roses, Hang on such thorns, and play as wantonly When summer's breath their masked buds discloses; But, for their virtue only is their show, They live unwoo'd and unrespected fade, Die to themselves.
Página 11 - There was a certain householder, which planted a vineyard, and hedged it round about, and digged a winepress in it, and built a tower, and let it out to husbandmen, and went into a far country: and when the time of the fruit drew near, he sent his servants to the husbandmen, that they might receive the fruits of it.
Página 8 - s grief enough for thee. Streaming tears that never stint, Like pearl-drops from a flint, Fell by course from his eyes, That one another's place supplies ; Thus he griev'd in every part, Tears of blood fell from his heart, When he left his pretty boy, Father's sorrow, father's joy. Weep not, my wanton, smile upon my knee ; When thou art old there 's grief enough for thee.
Página ix - Divines and dying men may talk of hell, But in my heart her several torments dwell.
Página 85 - BEFORE my face the picture hangs, That daily should put me in mind Of those cold names and bitter pangs, That shortly I am like to find : But yet, alas, full little I Do think hereon that I must die.
Página 19 - Dangerous conceits are in their natures poisons, Which at the first are scarce found to distaste, But with a little act upon the blood, Burn like the mines of sulphur.
Página xvii - It is a common practice nowadays amongst a sort of shifting companions, that run through every art and thrive by none, to leave the trade of Noverint, whereto they were born, and busy themselves with the endeavors of art, that could scarcely latinize their neck-verse if they should have need; yet English Seneca read by candlelight yields many good sentences, as "Blood is a beggar...
Página 86 - I do use to wear, The knife wherewith I cut my meat, And eke that old and ancient chair Which is my only usual seat,— All these do tell me I must die, And yet my life amend not I. My ancestors are...
Página 86 - My ancestors are turn'd to clay, And many of my mates are gone ; My youngers daily drop away, And can I think to 'scape alone ? No, no, I know that I must die, And yet my life amend not I.
Página xvii - Blood is a beggar' and so forth; and if you entreat him fair in a frosty morning, he will afford you whole Hamlets, I should say handfuls, of tragical speeches.