 | Geoffrey O'Brien, Billy Collins - 2007 - 778 ページ
...late a rosy wreath, Not so much honoring thee As giving it a hope that there It could not withered be; But thou thereon didst only breathe, And sent'st...grows, and smells, I swear, Not of itself but thee! The Good-Morrow BEN JONSON ENGLISH (1572-1637) I wonder, by my troth, what thou and I Did, till we... | |
 | Andrew M. Greeley, Mary G. Durkin - 2005 - 522 ページ
...late a rosy wreath, Not so much honoring thee, As giving it a hope, that there It could not withered be. But thou thereon didst only breathe, And sent'st...grows, and smells, I swear, Not of itself, but thee. MAYTIME The aged winter fled away Before the bugles of the May,— And love, dear love, arose. But... | |
 | Mandy Newman, June Newman - 2005 - 244 ページ
...giving it a hope that there It could not withered be. But thou thereon didst only breathe, And send'st it back to me: Since when it grows, and smells, I swear, Not of itself, but thee. ‘My Love is Like a Red, Red Rose' by Robert Burns 0, My luve is like a red, red rose, That's newly... | |
 | Cambridge International Examinations - 2005 - 272 ページ
...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 breathes and smells, I swear, ask] demand Not of itself but thee. Jove) Jupiter, the supreme god of... | |
 | Colin Bingham - 2006 - 428 ページ
...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 grows, and smells, I swear, .„, Not of itself, but thee. T> T BEN JONSON Women wish to be loved without a why and a wherefore; not because they are pretty and... | |
 | 2006 - 524 ページ
...it a hope, that there It could not withered be. But them thereon did' st only breathe, And sent' st it back to me; Since when it grows and smells, I swear, None of itself, but thee. 一 l · BenJonson 唯wordedaworkby · aG 爬ekSop 肘stof 山e 山计dcen... | |
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be. But thou thereon didst only breathe And sent'st it back to me; Since when it grows, and smells, I swear, Not of itself but thee! 
