The Waste Land (T. S. Eliot Poem)
The Waste Land by T. S. Eliot "Nam Sibyllam quidem Cumis ego ipse oculis meis vidi in ampulla pendere, et ...
The Waste Land by T. S. Eliot "Nam Sibyllam quidem Cumis ego ipse oculis meis vidi in ampulla pendere, et ...
SWEET rois of vertew and of gentilness, Delytsum lily of everie lustynes, Richest in bontie and in bewtie clear, And ...
In Virgynë the sweltrie sun gan sheene, And hotte upon the mees did caste his raie; The apple rodded from ...
Whene'er the wast makes too much hast, That hast againe makes too much wast. I here stand keeper while 'tis ...
O tell mee, tell, thou god of wynde, In all thy cavernes canst thou finde A vapor, fume, a gale ...
What Angel stirrs this happy Well, Some Muse from thence come shew't me, One of those naked Graces tell That ...
As I out of a casement sent Mine eyes as wand'ring as my thought, Upon no certayne object bent, But ...
Now the declining sun 'gan downwards bend From higher heavens, and from his locks did send A milder flame, when ...
Goe and count her better houres; They more happie are than ours. The day that gives her any blisse Make ...
O sing a new song to the Lord, Praise in the hight and deeper strayne; Come beare your parts with ...
Lett her parents then confesse That they beleeve her happinesse, Which now they question. Thinke as you Lent her the ...
YE learned sisters, which have oftentimes Beene to me ayding, others to adorne, Whom ye thought worthy of your gracefull ...
APRILL: Ægloga QuartaTHENOT & HOBBINOLL Tell me good Hobbinoll, what garres thee greete? What? hath some Wolfe thy tender Lambes ...
MOST glorious Lord of Lyfe! that, on this day, Didst make Thy triumph over death and sin; And, having harrowd ...
FRESH Spring, the herald of loves mighty king, In whose cote-armour richly are displayd All sorts of flowers, the which ...
THe wanton boy was shortly wel recured, of that his malady: But he soone after fresh againe enured, his former ...
MOst glorious Lord of lyfe that on this day, Didst make thy triumph ouer death and sin: and hauing harrowd ...
NOw al is done; bring home the bride againe, bring home the triumph of our victory, Bring home with you ...
FResh spring the herald of loues mighty king, In whose cote armour richly are displayd, all sorts of flowers the ...
Penelope for her Vlisses sake, Deuiz'd a Web her wooers to deceaue: in which the worke that she all day ...
That Providence which had so long the care Of Cromwell's head, and numbred ev'ry hair, Now in its self (the ...
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