(Thomas Chatterton Poems)
SCENE I.BRISTOWE.BIRTHA.Gentle Egwina, do notte preche me joie;I cannotte joie ynne anie thynge botte weere .Oh! yatte aughte schulde oure ...
SCENE I.BRISTOWE.BIRTHA.Gentle Egwina, do notte preche me joie;I cannotte joie ynne anie thynge botte weere .Oh! yatte aughte schulde oure ...
No more I hail the morning's golden gleam,No more the wonders of the view I sing;Friendship requires a melancholy theme,At ...
O God, whose thunder shakes the sky, Whose eye this atom globe surveys, To thee, my only rock, I fly, ...
O SING unto my roundelay, O drop the briny tear with me; Dance no more at holyday, Like a running ...
On Tiber's banks, Tiber, whose waters glide In slow meanders down to Gaigra's side; And circling all the horrid mountain ...
Recite the loves of Narva and Mored The priest of Chalma's triple idol said. High from the ground the youthful ...
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