 Love in my bosom like a bee Doth suck his sweet : Now with his wings he plays with me, Now with his feet. Within mine eyes he makes his nest, His bed amidst my tender breast ; My kisses are his daily feast, And yet he robs me of my rest. Ah, wanton, will...  Histoire de la littérature anglaise - الصفحة 319بواسطة Hippolyte Taine - 1863 - عدد الصفحات: 2409عرض كامل - لمحة عن هذا الكتاب
 | William Beloe - 1807 - عدد الصفحات: 468
...his wings he plaies with me, Now wijh his feete. Within mine eyes he makes his nest, His bed amidst my tender breast, My kisses are his daily feast, And yet he robs me of my rest. Ah Wanton will ye ? And if I sleepe then pearcheth he With prettie flight, And makes his pillow... | |
 | William Beloe - 1807 - عدد الصفحات: 1054
...Mings lie plaits with ine4 Now wi^h liis feete. Wjthin mine eyes he makes his nest, His bed amidst my tender breast, My kisses are his daily feast, And yet he robs uic of my rest. AI An Ah Wanton will ye ? And if I sleepe.then pearcheth he With prettie flight, _... | |
 | John Bodenham - 1812 - عدد الصفحات: 318
...happy artifice of language, than Rosalind's Madrigal, beginning " Love in my bosom, like a bee, Doth suck his sweet : Now with his wings he plays with me, Now with his feet. Within mine eyes he makes his rest; His bed amidst my tender breast; My kisses are his daily feast ; And yet... | |
 | Sir Egerton Brydges - 1812 - عدد الصفحات: 502
...happy artifice of language, than Rosalind's Madrigal, beginning " Love in my bosom, like a bee, Doth suck his sweet : Now with his wings he plays with me, Now with his feet. Within mine eyes he makes his rest; His bed amidst my tender breast; My kisses are his daily feast ; And yet... | |
 | Sir Egerton Brydges, Joseph Haslewood - 1812 - عدد الصفحات: 316
...artifice of language, than Rosalind's Madrigal, beginning " Love in my bosom, like a bee, Doth stick his sweet : Now with his wings he plays with me, Now with his feet. Within mine eyes he makes his rtstj His bed amids-t my tender breast; My kisses are his- daily feast ; And... | |
 | Thomas Campbell - 1819 - عدد الصفحات: 432
...Cease to recite thy sacred name. ROSALIND'S MADRIGAL. FROM THE SAME. LOVE in my bosom, like a bee, Doth suck his sweet : Now with his wings he plays with me, Now with his feet : Within mine eyes he makes his nest, His bed amidst my tender breast ; My kisses are his daily feast, And yet... | |
 | Thomas Campbell - 1819 - عدد الصفحات: 420
...his wings he plays with me, Now with his feet : Within mine eyes he makes his nest, His bed amidst my tender breast ; My kisses are his daily feast, And yet he robs me of my rest : Ah, wanton, will ye ! And if I sleep, then pierceth he With pretty slight ; And makes his... | |
 | 1820 - عدد الصفحات: 442
...sweete ; Now with his wings he plays with me, Now with his feete. Within mine eyes he makes his nest, His bed amid my tender breast ; My kisses are his daily feast, And yet he robs me of my rest. Strike I my lute — he tunes the string, He music plays, if I so sing : He lends me every... | |
 | Reuben Percy - 1823 - عدد الصفحات: 432
...edition from which it is transcribed is believed to be unique. Within mine eyes he makes his nest, His bed amid my tender breast; My kisses are his daily feast, And yet he robs me of my rest. Strike I my lute—he tunes the string, He music plays, if I do sing; He lends me every living... | |
 | William Beloe, Thomas Fanshaw Middleton, William Rowe Lyall, Robert Nares - 1823 - عدد الصفحات: 700
...sweete ; Now with his wings he plays with me, Now with his feete. " Within mine eyes he makes his nest, His bed amid my tender breast ; My kisses are his daily feast, And yet he robs me of my rest. " Strike I my lute — he tunes the string, He music plays, if I do sing ; He lends me every... | |
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