The Poetical Works of Edmund Spenser, Volume 3

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Houghton, Mifflin, 1855

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Page 126 - 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 ; To wast long nights in pensive discontent; To speed...
Page 278 - Phoebus, father of the Muse, If ever I did honour thee aright, Or sing the thing that mote...
Page 288 - And eeke for comfort often called art Of women in their smart, Eternally bind thou this lovely band, And all thy blessings unto us impart. And thou glad Genius, in whose gentle hand, The...
Page 277 - Go to the bowre of my beloved love, My truest turtle dove; Bid her awake; for Hymen...
Page 299 - Thames ! run softly, till I end my song. From those high towers this noble lord issuing Like radiant Hesper, when his golden hair In th' ocean billows he hath bathed fair, Descended to the river's open viewing With a great train ensuing.
Page 331 - Fell from the hope of promist heavenly place, Into the mouth of Death, to sinners dew, And all his off-spring into thraldome threw, Where they for ever should in bonds remaine Of never-dead yet ever-dying paine.
Page 242 - Twixt feare and hope depending doubtfully! Yet better were attonce to let me die, And shew the last ensample of your pride ; Then to torment me thus with cruelty, To prove your powre, which I too well have tride.
Page 247 - Doe wander now, in darknesse and dismay, Through hidden perils round about me plast ; Yet hope I well that, when this storme is past, My Helice, the lodestar of my lyfe, Will shine again, and looke on me at last...
Page 295 - All which upon those goodly birds they threw, And all the waves did strew, That like old Peneus...
Page 357 - Harvey, the happy above happiest men I read**; that, sitting like a looker-on Of this worldes stage, doest note with critique pen The sharpe dislikes of each condition: And, as one carelesse of suspition, Ne fawnest for the favour of the great, Ne fearest foolish reprehension Of faulty men, which daunger to thee threat: But freely doest of what thee list entreat,*** Like a great lord of peerelesse liberty, Lifting the good up to high Honours seat, And the evill damning evermore to dy: For life and...

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