Thy gowns, thy shoes, thy beds of roses, Thy cap, thy kirtle, and thy posies, Soon break, soon wither, soon forgotten: In folly ripe, in reason rotten. Thy belt of straw and ivy buds, Thy coral clasps and amber studs, All these in me no means can move... The Complete Angler: Or the Contemplative Man's Recreation, Being a ... - Página 81de Izaak Walton - 1875 - 320 páginasVista completa - Acerca de este libro
| Geoffrey O'Brien, Billy Collins - 2007 - 778 páginas
...yields: A honey tongue, a heart of gall, Is fancy's spring, but sorrow's fall. Thy gowns, thy shoes, thy beds of roses, Thy cap, thy kirtle, and thy posies,...folly ripe, in reason rotten. Thy belt of straw and ivy-buds, Thy coral clasps and amber studs, — All these in me no means can move To come to thee and... | |
| Longfellow Press Staff - 2004 - 126 páginas
...yields; A honey tongue, a heart of gall, Is fancy's spring, but sorrow's fall. Thy gowns, thy shoes, thy beds of roses, Thy cap, thy kirtle, and thy posies Soon break, soon wither, soon forgottenIn folly ripe, in season rotten, Thy belt of straw and ivy buds, Thy coral clasps and amber... | |
| Diane Ravitch, Michael Ravitch - 2006 - 512 páginas
...yields; A honey tongue, a heart of gall, Is fancy's spring, but sorrow's fall. Thy gowns, thy shoes, thy beds of roses, Thy cap, thy kirtle, and thy posies...no means can move To come to thee and be thy love. Nature, That Hath Washed Her Hands in Milk Nature, that hath washed her hands in milk, And had forgot... | |
| Christopher Marlowe, Stephen Orgel - 2007 - 322 páginas
...yields; 10 A honey tongue, a heart of gall Is fancy's spring, but sorrow's fall. Thy gowns, thy shoes, thy beds of roses, Thy cap, thy kirtle, and thy posies,...no means can move To come to thee and be thy love. 2.0 But could youth last and love still breed, Had joys no date, nor age no need, Then these delights... | |
| Kathryn Hinds - 2008 - 88 páginas
...yields; A honey tongue, a heart of gall, Is fancy's spring, but sorrow's fall. Thy gowns, thy shoes, thy beds of roses, Thy cap, thy kirtle, and thy posies...in reason rotten. Thy belt of straw and ivy buds, The coral clasps and amber studs, All these in me no means can move To come to thee and be thy love.... | |
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