Anecdotes of Literature and Scarce Books, Band 2F. C. & J. Rivington, 1807 |
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Seite 10
... a Traveller , Come from the Indies hether ; It passed sea and land , Ere it came to my hand , And scaped the wind and weather . This makes me sing , & c . TOBACCO TOBACCO is a Critticke , That still old paper turneth 10 OLD SONGS .
... a Traveller , Come from the Indies hether ; It passed sea and land , Ere it came to my hand , And scaped the wind and weather . This makes me sing , & c . TOBACCO TOBACCO is a Critticke , That still old paper turneth 10 OLD SONGS .
Seite 38
... hand , Charme these eyes with sacred wand , Thy jaylours shall be hopes and feares , Thy prison mates , grones sighes and teares , Thy play to weare out weary times , Phantastike passions , vowes and rimes . Thy bread bee frownes , thy ...
... hand , Charme these eyes with sacred wand , Thy jaylours shall be hopes and feares , Thy prison mates , grones sighes and teares , Thy play to weare out weary times , Phantastike passions , vowes and rimes . Thy bread bee frownes , thy ...
Seite 40
... hand but touchd does melt , And then no heavenlier warmth is felt . My Daphnes voice tunes all the spheres , My Daphnes musick charmes all eares . Fond am I thus to sing her prayse , These glories now are turned to bayeṣ . From Lilys ...
... hand but touchd does melt , And then no heavenlier warmth is felt . My Daphnes voice tunes all the spheres , My Daphnes musick charmes all eares . Fond am I thus to sing her prayse , These glories now are turned to bayeṣ . From Lilys ...
Seite 70
... Hand and Plough . 1594. " This Poem is inscribed to the Author's " Wor- shipfull and singular good friend Mistres Ann Robertes . " " The Poem commences thus : Countries delight , sweet Phillis , beutes pride , Vouchsafe to read the ...
... Hand and Plough . 1594. " This Poem is inscribed to the Author's " Wor- shipfull and singular good friend Mistres Ann Robertes . " " The Poem commences thus : Countries delight , sweet Phillis , beutes pride , Vouchsafe to read the ...
Seite 79
... Hand and Starre , by Richard Titler , the Third Day of February . An . 1557 . I MENTIONED in my first volume the ex- treme rarity of this edition , of which the Mu- seun copy is the only one I have ever seen . On farther examination ...
... Hand and Starre , by Richard Titler , the Third Day of February . An . 1557 . I MENTIONED in my first volume the ex- treme rarity of this edition , of which the Mu- seun copy is the only one I have ever seen . On farther examination ...
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Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
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
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 128 - Quicquid agunt homines, votum, timor, ira, voluptas, Gaudia, discursus, nostri farrago libelli est.
Seite 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.
Seite 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?
Seite 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.
Seite 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.
Seite 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.
Seite 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.
Seite 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.
Seite 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...
Seite 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.