The poetical works of sir Thomas Wyatt. The text ed. by C.C. Clarke1879 |
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Strona xiii
... Lorenzo of the " Night Thoughts , " a poem published when Frederick was only eight years of age , and when he could scarcely have even thought of committing . those crimes of scepticism and reckless self - gratification with which Young ...
... Lorenzo of the " Night Thoughts , " a poem published when Frederick was only eight years of age , and when he could scarcely have even thought of committing . those crimes of scepticism and reckless self - gratification with which Young ...
Strona 15
... Lorenzo , Fortune makes her court to thee , Thy fond heart dances , while the syren sings . Dear is thy welfare ; think me not unkind ; I would not damp , but to secure thy joys . Think not that fear is sacred to the storm : Stand on ...
... Lorenzo , Fortune makes her court to thee , Thy fond heart dances , while the syren sings . Dear is thy welfare ; think me not unkind ; I would not damp , but to secure thy joys . Think not that fear is sacred to the storm : Stand on ...
Strona 17
... Lorenzo ! a slow sudden death . How dreadful that deliberate surprise ! Be wise to - day ; ' tis madness to defer ; Next day the fatal precedent will plead ; Thus on , till wisdom is push'd out of life . Procrastination is the thief of ...
... Lorenzo ! a slow sudden death . How dreadful that deliberate surprise ! Be wise to - day ; ' tis madness to defer ; Next day the fatal precedent will plead ; Thus on , till wisdom is push'd out of life . Procrastination is the thief of ...
Strona 21
... Lorenzo ! let me turn my thoughts on thee , And thine , on themes may profit ; profit there , Where most thy need ; themes , too , the genuine growth Of dear Philander's dust . He thus , though dead , May still befriend - what themes ...
... Lorenzo ! let me turn my thoughts on thee , And thine , on themes may profit ; profit there , Where most thy need ; themes , too , the genuine growth Of dear Philander's dust . He thus , though dead , May still befriend - what themes ...
Strona 23
... Lorenzo ! ' tis confess'd . What , if for once , I preach thee quite awake ? Who wants amusement in the flame of battle ? Is it not treason to the soul immortal , Her foes in arms , eternity the prize ? Will toys amuse , when med'cines ...
... Lorenzo ! ' tis confess'd . What , if for once , I preach thee quite awake ? Who wants amusement in the flame of battle ? Is it not treason to the soul immortal , Her foes in arms , eternity the prize ? Will toys amuse , when med'cines ...
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The Poetical Works of Sir Thomas Wyatt. the Text Ed. by C. C. Clarke Sir Thomas Wyatt Podgląd niedostępny - 2015 |
Kluczowe wyrazy i wyrażenia
aileth Anne Boleyn art thou assign'd blind breast Busiris cause CHARLES COWDEN CLARKE cruel dark dear death deed desert desire despair disdain divine dost dread Earl of Essex earth EDWARD YOUNG eternal evermore eyes fair faith fate fault fear feel feign fire flame fleeth Forget Fortune Gainward glory gold grace grief hand hast hath hear heart heaven hope immortal Lady live look Lord Lorenzo love for love LOVER lust Lute mercy mind never Night Thoughts nought o'er offence pain Patience pity plain pleasant pleasure praise say nay seek sighs sight sing Sir Thomas Wyatt smart smile song sore sorrow soul steadfast sure tears thee thine thing Thou shalt Thy majesty thyself trust truth unkind unto waste wealth weens Whereby whereof wind wise withouten woful words wretched Wyatt ye list Young
Popularne fragmenty
Strona 10 - Unanxious for ourselves, and only wish As duteous sons, our fathers were more wise. At thirty man suspects himself a fool ; Knows it at forty, and reforms his plan ; At fifty chides his infamous delay, Pushes his prudent purpose to resolve; In all the magnanimity of thought Resolves and re-resolves; then dies the same.
Strona 27 - That sometime they have put themselves in danger To take bread at my hand; and now they range, Busily seeking with a continual change. Thanked be fortune, it hath been otherwise Twenty times better; but once...
Strona xxvi - Silence and darkness ! solemn sisters! twins From ancient night, who nurse the tender thought! To reason, and on reason build resolve (That column of true majesty in man,) Assist me : I will thank you in the grave ; The grave, your kingdom : there this frame shall fall A victim sacred to your dreary shrine.
Strona xxvi - Tis as the general pulse Of life stood still, and nature made a pause, An awful pause ! prophetic of her end.
Strona 24 - Tis greatly wise to talk with our past hours ; And ask them, what report they bore to heaven ; And how they might have borne more welcome news.
Strona 2 - And is it in the flight of threescore years To push eternity from human thought, And smother souls immortal in the dust ? A soul immortal, spending all her fires, Wasting her strength in strenuous idleness, Thrown into tumult, raptur'd or alarm'd, At aught this scene can threaten or indulge, Resembles ocean into tempest wrought, To waft a feather, or to drown a fly.
Strona 10 - Strikes through their wounded hearts the sudden dread : But their hearts wounded, like the wounded air, Soon close; where past the shaft no trace is found. As from the wing no scar the sky retains, The parted wave no furrow from the keel, So dies in human hearts the thought of death : E'en with the tender tear which Nature sheds O'er those we love, we drop it in their grave.
Strona xxviii - What can preserve my life ? or what destroy ? An angel's arm can't snatch me from the grave ; Legions of angels can't confine me there.
Strona 208 - Prayer ardent opens heaven, lets down a stream Of glory on the consecrated hour Of man, in audience with the Deity.
Strona 16 - I am of them that furthest come behind. Yet may I by no means my wearied mind Draw from the deer ; but as she fleeth afore, Fainting I follow : I leave off therefore, Since in a net I seek to hold the wind. Who list her hunt, I put him out of doubt As well as I, may spend his time in vain : And graven with diamonds in letters plain, There is written her fair neck round about : " Noli me tangere ; for Caesar's I am, And wild for to hold, though I seem tame.