Seventeenth Century LyricsGeorge Saintsbury Macmillan & Company, 1892 - 326 pages |
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Common terms and phrases
ABRAHAM COWLEY ALEXANDER BROME arms beauty BEN JONSON birds bliss blush brave breast breath bright Celia CELIMENA CHARLES COTTON cheek comfort dare dart dead dear delight desire dost doth drink earth eyes face fair fall fate fear find a woman fire flame flowers FRANCIS BEAUMONT give glory grace grow hair happy hath hear heart Heaven HENRY VAUGHAN honour hope JOHN DRYDEN JOHN FLETCHER king kiss leave light lips live love's lover lyric maid mind ne'er never night once pain passion Phillis pity pleasure poor RICHARD CRASHAW ROBERT HERRICK rose Sat and knotted scorn shalt shine sigh sing SIR JOHN SUCKLING sleep slow-worm sorrow soul spring stars stay Sweet Spirit tears tell thee thine things THOMAS CAMPION THOMAS CAREW Thou art thought true love unto weep WILLIAM HABINGTON wind wine wings wooing wound youth
Popular passages
Page 201 - Ah Ben! Say how or when Shall we, thy guests, Meet at those lyric feasts, Made at the Sun, The Dog, the Triple Tun ; Where we such clusters had, As made us nobly wild, not mad ? And yet each verse of thine Out-did the meat, out-did the frolic wine.
Page 19 - QUEEN and huntress, chaste and fair, Now the sun is laid to sleep, Seated in thy silver chair, State in wonted manner keep: Hesperus entreats thy light, Goddess excellently bright. Earth, let not thy envious shade Dare itself to interpose; Cynthia's shining orb was made Heaven to clear when day did close: Bless us then with wished sight, Goddess excellently bright. Lay thy bow of pearl apart And thy crystal-shining quiver; Give unto the flying hart Space to breathe, how short soever: Thou that mak'st...
Page 58 - You meaner beauties of the night, That poorly satisfy our eyes More by your number than your light, You common people of the skies; What are you when the moon shall rise? You curious chanters of the wood, That warble forth Dame Nature's lays, Thinking your passions understood By your weak accents; what's your praise When Philomel her voice shall raise?
Page 133 - FAIR daffodils, we weep to see You haste away so soon; As yet the early-rising sun Has not attained his noon. Stay, stay, Until the hasting day Has run But to the evensong; And, having prayed together, we Will go with you along. We have short time to stay, as you, We have as short a spring; As quick a growth to meet decay, As you, or anything. We die, As your hours do, and dry Away, Like to the summer's rain; Or as the pearls of morning's dew Ne'er to be found again.
Page 24 - WEEP with me, all you that read This little story; And know, for whom a tear you shed Death's self is sorry. 'Twas a child that so did thrive In grace and feature As Heaven and Nature seemed to strive Which owned the creature.
Page 208 - IN the hour of my distress, When temptations me oppress, And when I my sins confess, Sweet Spirit, comfort me ! When I lie within my bed, Sick in heart, and sick in head, And with doubts discomforted, Sweet Spirit, comfort me...
Page 136 - With thee O let me rise As larks, harmoniously, And sing this day thy victories : Then shall the fall further the flight in me.
Page 4 - Which he neglects the while, As from a nation vile, Yet, with an angry smile, Their fall portending. And turning to his men, Quoth our brave Henry then : Though they to one be ten, Be not amazed; Yet have we well begun, Battles so bravely won Have ever to the sun By fame been raised. And for myself...
Page 153 - THE merry world did on a day With his train-bands and mates agree To meet together, where I lay, And all in sport to jeer at me. First, Beauty crept into a rose ; Which when I pluckt not, Sir, said she, Tell me, I pray, whose hands are those ? But thou shalt answer, Lord, for me. Then Money came, and chinking still, What tune is this, poor man ? said he : I heard in Music you had skill: But thou shalt answer, Lord, for me.
Page 243 - And teach her fair steps tread our Earth ; Till that divine Idea, take a shrine Of crystal flesh, through which to shine ; Meet you her, my wishes, Bespeak her to my blisses, And be ye call'd, my absent kisses.