English Poetry (1170-1892)Ginn, 1907 - 580 psl. |
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14 psl.
... thou art stuffed 11 though I strive 12 till my teeth ache 13 will not 14 dawns 15 where are 16 led 17 hawks bore 18 ladies 19 their 20 head dress 21 complexion 22 pleasure 26 23 them 24 bore themselves very high 25 lost laughing 27 gait ...
... thou art stuffed 11 though I strive 12 till my teeth ache 13 will not 14 dawns 15 where are 16 led 17 hawks bore 18 ladies 19 their 20 head dress 21 complexion 22 pleasure 26 23 them 24 bore themselves very high 25 lost laughing 27 gait ...
16 psl.
... Art thou my perle that I haf playned , 12 Regretted by myn one , an nyghte ? 13 Much longeyng haf I for the layned , 1 Sythen in - to gresse thou me aglyghte ; Pensyf , payred , I am for - payned , 17 And thou in a lyf of lykyng lyghte ...
... Art thou my perle that I haf playned , 12 Regretted by myn one , an nyghte ? 13 Much longeyng haf I for the layned , 1 Sythen in - to gresse thou me aglyghte ; Pensyf , payred , I am for - payned , 17 And thou in a lyf of lykyng lyghte ...
59 psl.
... thou art blynde and wyll not the know ; Though upon erth thou hast thy dwelling place , Yet erth at last must nedes the overthrow . Thou thinkest thou do be no erth , I trow ; For if thou diddest , thou woldest than apply To forsake ...
... thou art blynde and wyll not the know ; Though upon erth thou hast thy dwelling place , Yet erth at last must nedes the overthrow . Thou thinkest thou do be no erth , I trow ; For if thou diddest , thou woldest than apply To forsake ...
67 psl.
... thou art my bale , My boote when thou shold bee ! " 17. This shoote it was but looselye shott , The arrowe flew in vaine , And it mett one of the sheriffes men ; Good William a Trent was slaine . 18. It had beene better for William a ...
... thou art my bale , My boote when thou shold bee ! " 17. This shoote it was but looselye shott , The arrowe flew in vaine , And it mett one of the sheriffes men ; Good William a Trent was slaine . 18. It had beene better for William a ...
68 psl.
... Thou art both mother and may ! 3 I thinke it was never mans destinye To dye before his day . " 40. Robin thought on ... Thou hast beene traytor all thy liffe , Which thing must have an ende . " 42. Robin pulled forth an Irish kniffe ...
... Thou art both mother and may ! 3 I thinke it was never mans destinye To dye before his day . " 40. Robin thought on ... Thou hast beene traytor all thy liffe , Which thing must have an ende . " 42. Robin pulled forth an Irish kniffe ...
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Antistrophe arms auld lang syne beauty behold beneath birds breast breath bright charms Corydon dark dead dear death deep delight dost doth dread dream earth eyes face fair fame fate fear flowers frae grace grief hand hast hath hear heart heaven Hind Horn honour king kynge lady Lady of Shalott light live look Lord Lord Randal maid maun mind mortal Muse ne'er never night nought numbers nymph o'er pain pleasure poison'd praise pride quoth rest round sche shade shine sigh sight sing sleep smile soft song sorrow soul sound spirit stars stood sweet sylphs tears tell Thalestris thee ther thine thing thou art thought thro Twas unto voice weep wild wind wings wood wyde wyfe wyll youth ΙΟ