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Anglo-Saxon ballad barbarous bard beauty bishops castle catholic century character Charles Childe Waters Christ christian church civil clergy composed court Dante Dargo death Earl Elector of Saxony Elizabeth Ellen England ENGLISH LITERATURE epoch Erasmus faith father fayre France French French language genius glory hand haue heaven Henry VIII heresies honour idiom James Juliet King knights ladies ladye Latin liberty lives Lord Luther manners ment middle ages Milton mind minstrels monk nations nature never noble Norman Parliament Petrarch Piers Plowman poem poet poetry political pope priest princes protestantism Queen reformation reign religion revolution Robert Wace Roman Rome Romeo Romeo and Juliet says scenes Scotland Shak Shakspeare Shakspeare's sing society song spirit Stuarts style sword taste thee thing third estate thou tomb tragedy translated troubadours trouvere verse whilst William William the Conqueror words writings
276 ページ - I'd have you buy and sell so ; so give alms ; Pray so ; and, for the ordering your affairs, To sing them too. When you do dance, I wish you A wave o' the sea, that you might ever do Nothing but that...
315 ページ - No longer mourn for me when I am dead Than you shall hear the surly sullen bell Give warning to the world that I am fled From this vile world, with vilest worms to dwell: Nay, if you read this line, remember not The hand that writ it; for I love you so, That I in your sweet thoughts would be forgot, If thinking on me then should make you woe.
270 ページ - It was the lark, the herald of the morn, No nightingale. Look, love, what envious streaks Do lace the severing clouds in yonder east ; Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund Day Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain-tops.
314 ページ - That time of year thou mayst in me behold When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang Upon those boughs which shake against the cold, Bare ruined choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.
271 ページ - Nor that is not the lark whose notes do beat The vaulty heaven so high above our heads. I have more care to stay than will to go. Come, death, and welcome ! Juliet wills it so. How is't, my soul ? Let's talk.
276 ページ - That come before the swallow dares, and take The winds of March with beauty ; violets dim, But sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes Or Cytherea's breath ; pale primroses, That die unmarried, ere they can behold Bright Phoebus in his strength — a malady Most incident to maids ; bold oxlips and The crown imperial ; lilies of all kinds, The flower-de-luce being one ! O, these I lack, To make you garlands of, and my sweet friend, To strew him o'er and o'er ! Flo.
231 ページ - For whilst, to the shame of slow-endeavouring art, Thy easy numbers flow, and that each heart Hath, from the leaves of thy unvalued book, Those Delphic lines with deep impression took ; Then thou, our fancy of itself bereaving, Dost make us marble, with too much conceiving ; And, so sepulchred, in such pomp dost lie, That kings, for such a tomb, would wish to die.
314 ページ - In me. thou see'st the twilight of such day As after sunset fadeth in the west ; Which by and by black night doth take away, Death's second self, that seals up all in rest. In me thou see'st the glowing of such fire That on the ashes of his youth doth lie, As the death-bed whereon it must expire, Consumed with that which it was nourish'd by. This thou perceiv'st, which makes thy love more strong, To love that well which thou must leave ere long.
231 ページ - What needs my Shakespeare for his honoured bones, The labour of an age in piled stones, Or that his hallowed relics should be hid Under a star-ypointing pyramid? Dear son of memory, great heir of Fame, What need'st thou such weak witness of thy name? Thou in our wonder and astonishment Hast built thyself a livelong monument.