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The Canterbury Tales of Chaucer: Completed in a Modern Version
Thomas Tyrwhitt,William Lipscomb
No preview available - 2015
alſo appears Arcite arms Author beginning believe beſt better Boccace called Canterbury characters Chaucer circumſtances common court death Duke edition Emilia Engliſh equal ev'ry eyes fable fair fame fight firſt fortune French give Gower granted ground half hand himſelf honour hour Italy John journey juſt kind King Knight lady language laſt learned leaſt length light lines lived look manner Mars mentioned moſt muſt nature never notes once original Palamon paſſage perhaps perſons pilgrims poem poet preſent prince printed probably Prologue reaſon reign reſt ſaid ſame ſays ſee ſeems ſeen ſeveral ſhall ſhe ſhould ſome ſpeak ſtill ſtory ſuch ſuppoſe taken Tale tell theſe Theſeus thing thoſe thou tranſlation true uſed whole whoſe Wife writings
Page 53 - In the first place, as he is the father of English poetry, so I hold him in the same degree of veneration as the Grecians held Homer or the Romans Virgil...
Page 56 - Even the grave and serious characters are distinguished by their several sorts of gravity: their discourses are such as belong to their age, their calling, and their breeding; such as are becoming of them, and of them only.
Page 203 - Of fortune, fate, or Providence complain? God gives us what he knows our wants require, And better things than those which we desire...
Page 200 - Till each with mortal hate his rival view'd; Now friends no more, nor walking hand in hand; But when they met, they made a surly stand; And glared like angry lions as they pass'd, And wish'd that every look might be their last.
Page 204 - Thus all seek happiness; but few can find, For far the greater part of men are blind. This is my case, who thought our utmost good Was in one word of freedom understood: The fatal blessing came: from prison free, I starve abroad, and lose the sight of Emily!
Page 165 - For letting down the golden chain from high, He drew his audience upward to the sky...
Page 233 - Where neither beast, nor human kind repair ; The fowl, that scent afar, the borders fly, And shun the bitter blast, and wheel about the sky.
Page 276 - Since every man who lives is born to die, And none can boast sincere felicity, With equal mind what happens let us bear, Nor joy nor grieve too much for things beyond our care. Like pilgrims to th' appointed place we tend ; The world's an inn, and death the journey's end.