The Minor PoemsClarendon Press, 1888 - 462 strán (strany) |
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Allas Anelida anoon Arcite Balade beaute Boethius Canterbury Tales Chaucer Complaint compleynt copy coude Dante dede deth dissyllabic doth doun drede edition Envoy erthe fals Fame Foules Gentilesse gret grete han don Harl hath herde herte hevene House of Fame Illic insert Ioye kynde lady lines litel Lydgate Lydgate's maner Mars mercy moche never noght Ovid Parliament of Foules peyne Pite pleyne quene quod rede rest omit rime saugh Scogan seyde seyn shal shews shulde Sith slepe sone sorwe soth soun stanzas Statius swete swich Tale Thebes thee ther therfor thing thoght thou thyn translation trewe Trin Troilus trouthe tyme unto Venus Vincent of Beauvais Virelai whan wher whyl wight wolde word wrongly wyse
Populárne pasáže
Strana 305 - there's as good fish in the sea as ever came out of it...
Strana 368 - Philosophy ; a golden volume not unworthy of the leisure of Plato or Tully, but which claims incomparable merit from the barbarism of the times and the situation of the author.
Strana ix - To serve yow, in prcysing of your name. He made the book that hight the Hous of Fame, And eke the Deeth of Blaunche the Duchesse, And the Parlement of Foules, as I gesse, And al the love of Palamon and Arcite 420 Of Thebes, thogh the storye ys knowen lyte; And many an ympne for your halydayes, That highten balades, roundels, virelayes...
Strana 101 - Sin I fro Love escaped am so fat, I never thenk to ben in his prison lene ; Sin I am free, I counte him not a bene.
Strana 309 - Che m' e venuta voglia con pietosa Rima di scriver una storia antica, Tanto negli anni riposta e nascosa. Che latino autor non par ne dica, Per quel ch...
Strana 300 - Growing on's cheek (but none knows how); With these the crystal of his brow, And then the dimple of his chin; All these did my Campaspe win.
Strana 331 - Muses! O high genius! now vouchsafe Your aid. O mind! that all I saw hast kept Safe in a written record, here thy worth And eminent endowments come to proof. 1 thus began : " Bard ! thou who art my guide, Consider well, if virtue be in me Sufficient, ere to this high enterprise Thou trust me. Thou hast told that Silvius' sire,1 Yet clothed in corruptible flesh, among The immortal tribes had entrance, and was there Sensibly present.
Strana 210 - For whiche unto your mercy thus I crye: Beth hevy ageyn, or elles mot I dye!
Strana 288 - Hanc tu exerce 21 optimis in rebus! sunt autem optimae curae de salute patriae, quibus agitatus et exercitatus animus velocius in hanc sedem et domum suam pervolabit...
Strana 100 - Your yen two wol slee me sodenly, I may the beaute of hem not sustene, So woundeth hit through-out my herte kene.