Specimens of the Lyrical, Descriptive, and Narrative Poets of Great Britain, from Chaucer to the Present Day:: With a Preliminary Sketch of the History of Early English Poetry, and Biographical and Critical Notices, |
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Results 6-10 of 58
Page 62
A mouth he has , but wordis hath he none ; Cannot complaine alas ! for none
outrage : Nor grutcheth not , but lies here all alone Still as a lambe , most meke of
his visage . What heart of stèle could do to him damage , Or suffer him dye ...
A mouth he has , but wordis hath he none ; Cannot complaine alas ! for none
outrage : Nor grutcheth not , but lies here all alone Still as a lambe , most meke of
his visage . What heart of stèle could do to him damage , Or suffer him dye ...
Page 89
... me speed , And for my goods they will me knowe : More and less to me will
draw ; Both the better and the worse : But in this matter I say in sawe Ever gra -
mercy mine own purse . It befell me upon a time , As it hath ENGLISH POETRY .
89.
... me speed , And for my goods they will me knowe : More and less to me will
draw ; Both the better and the worse : But in this matter I say in sawe Ever gra -
mercy mine own purse . It befell me upon a time , As it hath ENGLISH POETRY .
89.
Page 90
It befell me upon a time , As it hath done by many a one mo , My horse , my neat ,
my sheep , my swine , And all my goods , were gone me fro : I went to my friends
and told them so ; And home again they bade me truss : I said again , when I ...
It befell me upon a time , As it hath done by many a one mo , My horse , my neat ,
my sheep , my swine , And all my goods , were gone me fro : I went to my friends
and told them so ; And home again they bade me truss : I said again , when I ...
Page 110
THE soote season , that bud and bloom forth brings , With green hath clad the hill
, and eke the vale ; The nightingale , with feathers new , she sings , The turtle to
her mate hath told her tale . Summer is come ; for every spray now springs .
THE soote season , that bud and bloom forth brings , With green hath clad the hill
, and eke the vale ; The nightingale , with feathers new , she sings , The turtle to
her mate hath told her tale . Summer is come ; for every spray now springs .
Page 114
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 approv ' d , The which so long
hath thee so lov ' d , Whose steadfast faith yet never mov ' d , Forget not this !
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 approv ' d , The which so long
hath thee so lov ' d , Whose steadfast faith yet never mov ' d , Forget not this !
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