The Poems of Henry Howard, Earl of SurreyBell and Daldy, 1831 - 180 páginas |
Otras ediciones - Ver todas
The Poems of Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey, Volumen5 Henry Howard Earl of Surrey,Frederick Morgan Padelford Vista de fragmentos - 1928 |
The Poems of Henry Howard Earl of Surrey Henry Howard Earl of Surrey Sin vista previa disponible - 2021 |
Términos y frases comunes
Æneas altar amid Androgeus Anne Boleyn arms Ascanius behold blood Boulogne breast brought Calchas Clere Creusa cruel daughter dear death delight desire Dido doth dread Duke of Norfolk Earl of Surrey earth Edward the Confessor enemies eyen eyes fair Geraldine faith fame father fear feres flame fled foes fury gates Gods gold grace Greekish Greeks hand Hardelot harquebussiers hath heart Henry honour hope Howard Iulus King King's Lady Landrecy light live Lord my husband LOVER Majesty mind never night Nott pain plain pleasure poem Priam's rage seas seek sent shalt shew sight Sir Thomas Wyatt Sister Sith sleep sought Surrey's sweet sword tears thee thine things Thomas Thomas of Brotherton thou hast thought Tower town travail Troy Troyan unto walls wealth whereof Wherewith wight wind woful words wrath wretched yield
Pasajes populares
Página 57 - Martial, the things that do attain The happy life be these, I find ; The riches left, not got with pain ; The fruitful ground, the quiet mind. The equal friend, no grudge, no strife, No charge of rule nor governance ; Without disease, the healthful life ; The household of continuance.
Página 3 - The turtle to her mate hath told her tale. Summer is come, for every spray now springs: The hart hath hung his old head on the pale; The buck in brake his winter coat he flings ; The fishes flete with new repaired scale.
Página 14 - Alas! so all things now do hold their peace; Heaven and earth disturbed in no thing: The beasts, the air, the birds their song do cease; The nightes chare the stars about doth bring: Calm is the sea; the waves work less and less: So am not I, whom love, alas, doth wring, Bringing before my face the great increase Of my desires, whereat I weep and sing, In joy and woe, as in...
Página 15 - SET me whereas the sun doth parch the green Or where his beams do not dissolve the ice; In temperate heat, where he is felt and seen; In presence prest of people, mad or wise; Set me in high, or yet in low degree; In longest night, or in the shortest day; In clearest sky, or where clouds thickest be; In lusty youth, or when my hairs are grey: Set me in heaven, in earth, or else in hell...
Página 12 - Tuscane came my lady's worthy race, Fair Florence was sometime her ancient seat. The western isle, whose pleasant shore doth face Wild Camber's cliffs, did give her lively heat. Fostered she was with milk of Irish breast ; Her sire an Earl, her dame of Princes' blood, From tender years in Britain doth she rest, With King's child ; where she tasteth costly food.
Página 19 - The pleasant dreams, the quiet bed of rest; The secret thoughts imparted with such trust, The wanton talk, the divers change of play, The friendship sworn, each promise kept so just, Wherewith we passed the winter night away.
Página 22 - And in green waves when the salt flood Doth rise by rage of wind, A thousand fancies in that mood Assail my restless mind. Alas! now drencheth my sweet foe, That with the spoil of my heart did go, And left me ; but alas ! why did he so...
Página 18 - So cruel prison how could betide, alas, As proud Windsor? Where I in lust and joy With a king's son my childish years did pass In greater feast than Priam's sons of Troy; Where each sweet place returns a taste full sour: The large green courts where we were wont to hove With eyes cast up into the maidens...
Página 53 - I not my pain ? Since that amongst them all, I dare well say is none So far from weal, so full of woe, or hath more cause to moan. For all things having life, sometime hath quiet rest; The bearing ass, the drawing ox, and every other beast...
Página 31 - Than I with pen have skill to show. I could rehearse, if that I would, The whole effect of Nature's plaint, When she had lost the perfect mould, The like to whom she could not paint : With wringing hands, how she did cry, And what she said, I know it, aye.