The Wife Of Bath Her Tale (John Henry Dryden Poems)
In days of old, when Arthur filled the throne,Whose acts and fame to foreign lands were blown,The king of elves, ...
In days of old, when Arthur filled the throne,Whose acts and fame to foreign lands were blown,The king of elves, ...
PUT off thy shoes, ere thou thy God dost greet,Thy ass, before thou sacrificest, bind —Wash, ere the altar thou ...
The cock, warm roosting 'midst his feather'd dames,Now lifts his beak and snuffs the morning air,Stretches his neck and claps ...
Impatience chaungeth smoke to flame, but jealousie is hell;Some wives by patience have reduc'd ill husbands to live well:As did ...
Supper removed, the mother sits,And tells her tales by starts and fits.Not willing to lose time or toil,She knits or ...
Rise with the cock, and clap each flutt'ring wing,In grateful hymns exultingly rejoice —Early to God, each Sunday morning, singWith ...
WHEN first thou wakest, each succeeding day,Lift up to God above thy grateful eyes,And due respect to him be sure ...
There was a king of Yvetot, Of whom renown hath little said, Who let all thoughts of glory go, And dawdled half his ...
"Young soldier, what will you beWhen it's all over?""I shall get out and across the sea,Where land's cheap and a ...
Because I am by nature blind,I wisely choose to walk behind;However, to avoid disgrace,I let no creature see my face.My ...
'TIS nine o'clock:-to bed! cried Egremont,Who with his youthful household (for 'tis nowLong since) inhabited a lonely homeIn the Australian ...
How blest art thou, canst love the countrey, Wroth, Whether by choyce, or fate, or both!And, though so neere the ...
Why stay we at home, now the season is come!Jolly lads let us liquor our throats;Our interest we wrong, if ...
IT'S nobbut cock-leet, Sweetheart! Hast come by Yorla Moor?Whya, Lad! thoo mun be famished! I' Muther's cheeany crockAre spice-loaves an' ...
When half the drowsy world's a-bed And misty morning rises red, With jollity of horn and lusty cheer, Young Nimrod ...
When I was sick and lay a-bed, I had two pillows at my head, And all my toys beside me ...
The sun is not a-bed, when I At night upon my pillow lie; Still round the earth his way he ...
Late lies the wintry sun a-bed, A frosty, fiery sleepy-head; Blinks but an hour or two; and then, A blood-red ...
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