Elizabethan Songs "in Honour of Love and Beautie"Little, Brown & Company, 1891 - Всего страниц: 178 [This book] is [an] account of one of the most severe child abuse cases in California history. It is the story of Dave Pelzer, who was brutally beaten and starved by his emotionally unstable, alcoholic mother: a mother who played torturous, unpredictable games - games that left him nearly dead. He had to learn how to play his mother's games in order to survive because she no longer considered him a son, but a slave; and no longer a boy, but an "it."--Back cover |
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beauty behold bel ami Ben Jonson blushing breast bright Campion Celia cheeks Cherry ripe Chloris country loves Cuckoo Cupid plague thee Daphne's dear delight desires do gain doth Edmund Waller Elizabethan fair Rosalind fear fire flame flowers foe to reason forsworn give my love glory grace grow hair heart heaven Heigho hey ding-a-ding Hymen James Shirley John Lyly Jonson Jove joys king kiss lady lips live look love a shepherd love good-morrow LOVE'S LABOUR'S LOST loves such sweet lullaby maid merry Michael Drayton MISTRESS morn N'oserez night pearls Phillis hath Phoebus pity play pleasures poetry poets pretty ring-time Richard Lovelace Robert Herrick roses rosy Samuel Daniel Shakespeare shepherd swain shine sigh Siren pleasant sleep snow soft SONG stars sweet desires tears tell thine eyes Thomas Campion Thomas Carew Thomas Heywood Thomas Lodge thoughts vows wanton William Habington wings youth
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Стр. 123 - HE that loves a rosy cheek, Or a coral lip admires, Or from starlike eyes doth seek Fuel to maintain his fires ; As old Time makes these decay, So his flames must waste away. But a smooth and steadfast mind, Gentle thoughts and calm desires, Hearts with equal love combined, Kindle never-dying fires. Where these are not, I despise Lovely cheeks, or lips, or eyes...
Стр. 28 - Love in my bosom like a bee Doth suck his sweet; Now with his wings he plays with me, Now with his feet. Within mine eyes he makes his nest, His bed amidst my tender breast, My kisses are his daily feast, And yet he robs me of my rest — Ah, wanton, will ye?
Стр. 72 - When shepherds pipe on oaten straws, And merry larks are ploughmen's clocks, When turtles tread, and rooks, and daws, And maidens bleach their summer smocks, The cuckoo then, on every tree, Mocks married men, for thus sings he, Cuckoo ; Cuckoo, cuckoo...
Стр. 104 - Drink to me only with thine eyes, And I will pledge with mine; Or leave a kiss but in the cup And I'll not look for wine. The thirst that from the soul doth rise Doth ask a drink divine; But might I of Jove's nectar sup, I would not change for thine.
Стр. 78 - It was a lover and his lass, With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino, That o'er the green corn-field did pass In the spring time, the only pretty ring time, When birds do sing, hey ding a ding, ding : Sweet lovers love the spring.
Стр. 58 - Sweet air blow soft, mount larks aloft To give my Love good-morrow ! Wings from the wind to please her mind Notes from the lark I'll borrow ; Bird, prune thy wing, nightingale sing, To give my Love good-morrow ; To give my Love good-morrow Notes from them both I'll borrow.
Стр. 140 - The higher he's a-getting, The sooner will his race be run, And nearer he's to setting. That age is best which is the first, When youth and blood are warmer; But being spent, the worse and worst Times still succeed the former. Then be not coy, but use your time, And while ye may, go marry; For, having...
Стр. 65 - Who is Silvia ? what is she, That all our swains commend her ? Holy, fair, and wise is she, The heaven such grace did lend her, That she might admired' be. Is she kind as she is fair ? For beauty lives with kindness : Love doth to her eyes repair, To help him of his blindness; And, being helped, inhabits there.
Стр. 29 - I sleep, then percheth he With pretty flight, And makes his pillow of my knee The live-long night. Strike I my lute, he tunes the string, He music plays if so I sing, He lends me every lovely thing: Yet cruel he my heart doth sting: Whist, wanton, still ye!
Стр. 127 - ASK me no more whither do stray The golden atoms of the day, For in pure love heaven did prepare Those powders to enrich your hair.