A Literary History of the English People from the Renaissance to the Civil War ...

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T.F. Unwin, 1895
 

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Page 233 - From the end of the thirteenth century and the beginning of the fourteenth...
Page 326 - The elf-queen, with hir joly companye, Daunced ful ofte in many a grene mede; This was the olde opinion, as I rede. I speke of manye hundred yeres ago; But now can no man see none elves mo. For now the grete charitee and...
Page 314 - For his science, and for his heigh renoun, Of fees and robes hadde he many oon. So greet a purchasour was nowher noon. Al was fee simple to him in effect, His purchasing mighte nat been infect. Nowher so bisy a man as he ther nas, And yet he semed bisier than he was.
Page 142 - It was the lark, the herald of the morn, No nightingale ; look, love, what envious streaks Do lace the severing clouds in yonder east. Night's candles are burnt out...
Page 329 - Had you seen me I surely should have moved your pity. When alone in agonies would I lay down the book, take it up again, walk about the room, let fall a flood of tears, wipe my eyes, read again, perhaps not three lines, throw away the book, crying out: ' Excuse me, good Mr. Richardson, I cannot go on; it is your fault, you have done more than I can bear...
Page 306 - O yonge, fresshe folkes, he or she, In which that love up groweth with youre age, Repeyreth hom fro worldly vanyte, And of youre herte up casteth the visage To thilke God that after his ymage Yow made, and thynketh al nys but a faire This world, that passeth soone as floures faire.
Page 327 - A yong man called Melibeus, myghty and riche, bigat upon his wyf, that called was Prudence, a doghter which that called was Sophie...
Page 73 - O, no end is limited to damned souls ! Why wert thou not a creature wanting soul? Or why is this immortal that thou hast? Ah, Pythagoras' metempsychosis ! were that true, This soul should fly from me, and I be changed Unto some brutish beast!
Page 397 - And that a cloude is put with wynd to flighte, Which oversprat the sonne as for a space, A cloudy thought gan thorugh hire soule pace, That overspradde hire brighte thoughtes alle, So that for feere almost she gan to falle.
Page 502 - If I might have had my will, I should have seen you ere this time; I would ye were at home, if it were your ease, and your sore might be as well looked to here as it is there ye be now, lever than a new gown though it were of scarlet.

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