THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDMUND SPENSER. THE TEXT AREFULLY REVISED, AND ILLUSTRATED WITH NOTES, ORIGINAL AND SELECTED.

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第 130 頁 - Full little knowest thou that hast not tride, What hell it is in suing long to bide: To loose good dayes, that might be better spent...
第 310 頁 - Their snowie foreheads therewithall they crownd, Whil'st one did sing this lay, Prepar'd against that day, Against their brydale day, which was not long: Sweete Themmes, runne softly, till I end my song.
第 298 頁 - And lende me leave to come unto my love? How slowly do the houres theyr numbers spend? How slowly does sad Time his feathers move? Hast thee, O fayrest Planet, to thy home, Within the Westerne fome : Thy tyred steedes long since have need of rest.
第 290 頁 - Wake now, my love, awake! for it is time: The rosy Morne long since left Tithones bed, All ready to her silver coche to clyme, And Phoebus gins to shew his glorious hed.
第 242 頁 - Lyke captives trembling at the victors sight. And happy lines! on which, with starry light, , Those lamping eyes will deigne sometimes to look, And reade the sorrowes of my dying spright, Written with teares in harts close bleeding book.
第 310 頁 - Themmes ! runne softly, till I end my Song. Then forth they all out of their baskets drew Great store of Flowers, the honour of the field, That to the sense did fragrant odours yield, All which upon those goodly Birds they threw And all the Waves did strew, That like old Peneus...
第 307 頁 - Zephyrus did softly play A gentle spirit, that lightly did delay Hot Titans beames, which then did glyster fayre : When I whom sullein care, Through discontent of my long fruitlesse stay In Princes Court, and expectation vayne Of idle hopes, which still doe fly away, Like empty shaddowes, did afflict my brayne, Walkt forth to ease my payne 10 Along the shoare of silver streaming Themmes...
第 335 頁 - So every spirit, as it is most pure, And hath in it the more of heavenly light, So it the fairer body doth procure To habit in, and it more fairly dight, With cheerful grace and amiable sight. For, of the soul, the body form doth take, For soul is form, and doth the body make.
第 289 頁 - And long since ready forth his maske to move, With his bright Tead that flames with many a flake, And many a bachelor to waite on him, In theyr fresh garments trim. Bid her awake therefore, and soone her dight, For lo!
第 290 頁 - For feare the stones her tender foot should wrong Be strewed with fragrant flowers all along, And diapred lyke the discolored mead.

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