Shakespeare's Garden

Methuen & Company, 1903 - 243 páginas
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Página 167 - When all aloud the wind doth blow And coughing drowns the parson's saw And birds sit brooding in the snow And Marian's nose looks red and raw, When roasted crabs hiss in the bowl, Then nightly sings the staring owl, Tu-whit; Tu-who, a merry note, While greasy Joan doth keel the pot. V. ii.
Página 158 - Art. Where the bee sucks, there suck I, In a cowslip's bell I lie; There I couch when owls do cry. On the bat's back I do fly After summer merrily. Merrily, merrily shall I live now, Under the blossom that hangs on the bough. V. i. 88.
Página 158 - V the commonwealth I would by contraries Execute all things; for no kind of traffic Would I admit; no name of magistrate; Letters should not be known ; riches, poverty, And use of service, none ; contract, succession, Bourn, bound of land, tilth, vineyard, none; No use of metal, corn, or wine, or oil; No occupation.
Página 159 - Jul. The more thou damm'st it up, the more it burns. The current that with gentle murmur glides, Thou know'st, being stopp'd, impatiently doth rage; But when his fair course is not hindered, He makes sweet music with the enamell'd stones, Giving a gentle kiss to every sedge He overtaketh in his pilgrimage. The
Página 168 - The cowslips tall her pensioners be: Those be rubies, fairy favours, In their gold coats spots you see ; In those freckles live their savours : I must go seek some dew-drops here, And hang a pearl in every cowslip's ear. Farewell, thou lob of spirits; I'll be gone : Our queen and all her elves come here anon. I.
Página 228 - hark! the lark at heaven's gate sings, And Phoebus 'gins arise, His steeds to water at those springs On chaliced flowers that lies; And winking Mary-buds begin To ope their golden eyes: With everything that pretty is, My lady sweet, arise, Arise, arise!
Página 220 - And will he not come again ? And will he not come again ? No, no, he is dead: Go to thy death-bed : He never will come again. His beard was as white as snow, All flaxen was his poll: He is gone, he is gone, And we cast away moan : God ha
Página 35 - Under the greenwood tree Who loves to lie with me, And turn his merry note Unto the sweet bird's throat, Come hither, come hither, come hither : Here shall he see No enemy But winter and rough weather. As You Like It, II. v.
Página 182 - Via. A blank, my lord. She never told her love. But let concealment, like a worm i 1 the bud. Feed on her damask cheek : she pined in thought, And with a green and yellow melancholy She sat like patience on a monument, Smiling
Página 176 - In the spring time, the only pretty ring time, When birds do sing, hey ding a ding, ding : Sweet lovers love the spring. This carol they began that hour, How that a life was but a flower In spring time, etc. With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino, And therefore take the present time,

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