English Lyrics |
From inside the book
Results 1-5 of 21
Page 1
... pain ; Dear hand , alas ! In little space My life thou dost restrain . O fingers slight ! Departed right , So long , so small , so round ; Goodly begone , And yet a bone Most cruel in my wound . With lilies white And roses bright Doth ...
... pain ; Dear hand , alas ! In little space My life thou dost restrain . O fingers slight ! Departed right , So long , so small , so round ; Goodly begone , And yet a bone Most cruel in my wound . With lilies white And roses bright Doth ...
Page 2
... pain . II . THE LOVER BESEECHETH HIS MISTRESS NOT TO FORGET HIS STEADFAST FAITH AND TRUE INTENT . F ORGET not yet the tried intent Of such a truth as I have meant ; My great travail so gladly spent , Forget not yet ! Forget not yet when ...
... pain . II . THE LOVER BESEECHETH HIS MISTRESS NOT TO FORGET HIS STEADFAST FAITH AND TRUE INTENT . F ORGET not yet the tried intent Of such a truth as I have meant ; My great travail so gladly spent , Forget not yet ! Forget not yet when ...
Page 3
... painful patience in delays , Forget not yet ! Forget not ! Oh ! forget not this , How long ago hath been , and is The mind that never meant amiss . Forget not yet ! Forget not then thine own approved , The which so long hath thee so ...
... painful patience in delays , Forget not yet ! Forget not ! Oh ! forget not this , How long ago hath been , and is The mind that never meant amiss . Forget not yet ! Forget not then thine own approved , The which so long hath thee so ...
Page 13
... pain , let pleasure pass . With lullaby now take your leave , With lullaby your dreams deceive , And when you rise with waking eye , Remember then this lullaby . VII . NICHOLAS BRETON , 1542-1626 ? A PASTORAL OF GEORGE GASCOIGNE . 13.
... pain , let pleasure pass . With lullaby now take your leave , With lullaby your dreams deceive , And when you rise with waking eye , Remember then this lullaby . VII . NICHOLAS BRETON , 1542-1626 ? A PASTORAL OF GEORGE GASCOIGNE . 13.
Page 17
... pain of lovers ' mocks ; But little birds would carry tales Twixt Susan and her sweeting ; And all the dainty nightingales Did sing at lovers ' meeting ; Then might you see what looks did pass Where shepherds did assemble ; And where ...
... pain of lovers ' mocks ; But little birds would carry tales Twixt Susan and her sweeting ; And all the dainty nightingales Did sing at lovers ' meeting ; Then might you see what looks did pass Where shepherds did assemble ; And where ...
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Common terms and phrases
adieu Love Anthony Wood beauty BEN JONSON best fits birds blow bosom breast breath bright brow cold County Guy Cynthia's Revels dead infected dear death delight doth earth England's Helicon eyes fair Samela fancy fear fire fits a little flowers Forget friends GEORGE GASCOIGNE give gone grave hath heart heaven holly Honour lady leaves live look Love is dead Love's lovers lulla lullaby lyric mourn ne'er never NICHOLAS BRETON night numbers o'er old familiar faces pain peace Phillada flouts Phillis pity pleasure poem Queen rage of wind ROBERT SOUTHWELL roses scorn shepherd shine sighs sight sing sleep smile SONG sorrow soul spring stars sweet tears tell thee thine things THOMAS DEKKER thou art thou dost Thou hast thought toil tomb tree ULYSSES unto untrue Love verse waking eye wanton waves weep wert winds youth
Popular passages
Page 120 - THE glories of our blood and state Are shadows, not substantial things ; There is no armour against Fate ; Death lays his icy hand on kings : Sceptre and Crown Must tumble down, And in the dust be equal made With the poor crooked scythe and spade.
Page 186 - SHE was a phantom of delight When first she gleamed upon my sight ; A lovely apparition, sent To be a moment's ornament : Her eyes as stars of twilight fair ; Like twilight's too her dusky hair ; But all things else about her drawn From May-time and the cheerful dawn ; A dancing shape, an image gay, To haunt, to startle, and way-lay.
Page 224 - And smoothed down his lonely pillow, That the foe and the stranger would tread o'er his head; And we far away on the billow! Lightly they'll talk of the spirit that's gone, And o'er his cold ashes upbraid him; But little he'll reck; if they let him sleep on In the grave where a Briton has laid him.
Page 66 - A HYMN TO GOD THE FATHER. W PILT Thou forgive that sin where I begun, Which was my sin, though it were done before ? Wilt Thou forgive that sin, through which I run And do run still, though still I do deplore ? When Thou hast done, Thou hast not done ; For I have more.
Page 136 - Going to the Wars TELL me not, Sweet, I am unkind, That from the nunnery Of thy chaste breast, and quiet mind, To war and arms I fly. True; a new mistress now I chase, The first foe in the field; And with a stronger faith embrace A sword, a horse, a shield. Yet this inconstancy is such, As you too shall adore; I could not love thee, dear, so much, Loved I not honour more.
Page 57 - Come away, come away, death, And in sad cypress let me be laid ; Fly away, fly away, breath ; I am slain by a fair cruel maid. My shroud of white, stuck all with yew, O, prepare it ! My part of death, no one so true Did share it. Not a flower, not a flower sweet, On my black coffin let there be strown...
Page 69 - 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!
Page 116 - SWEET day, so cool, so calm, so bright, The bridal of the earth and sky, The dew shall weep thy fall to-night ; For thou must die.
Page 216 - She walks in beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies; And all that's best of dark and bright Meet in her aspect and her eyes: Thus mellow'd to that tender light Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
Page 81 - Every thing did banish moan, Save the nightingale alone : She, poor bird, as all forlorn, Lean'd her breast up-till a thorn, And there sung the dolefull'st ditty, That to hear it was great pity : 'Fie, fie, fie...