 as soon as I behold thee, thirst, and taking hold of the cup, do not, indeed, apply that to my lips for drink, but thee.' III. I sent thee late a rosy wreath, Not so much honouring thee, . As giving it a hope that there It might not withered be. PHIL....  The British Essayists: Observer - 142 ページ1823全文表示 - この書籍について
 | Brian Friel - 1987 - 156 ページ
...that song? PAVEL. 'Drink to me only'. FENICHKA. I never heard him singing that before. PAVEL, (speaks) 'I sent thee late a rosy wreath, Not so much honouring thee As giving it a hope that there It could not withered be . . .' (FENICHKA has been counting the chairs.) FENICHKA. Sorry, Pavel—what... | |
 | Cambridge International Examinations - 2005 - 272 ページ
...doth rise Doth ask a drink divine. But might I of Jove's nectar sup, I would not change for thine. I sent thee late a rosy wreath, Not so much honouring thee As giving it a hope that there It could not withered be. But thou thereon didst only breathe And sent'st it back to me, Since when it... | |
 | Colin Bingham - 2006 - 428 ページ
...doth rise, >* Doth ask a drink divine: But might I of Jove's nectar sup, I would not change for thine. I sent thee, late, a rosy wreath, Not so much honouring thee, As giving it a hope, that there It could not withered be. But thou thereon did'st only breathe, And senfst it back to me: Since when it... | |
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