English Masterpieces, Volume 1P. Owen, 1957 |
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Page 169
... soon , For I'm wearied wi hunting , and fain wad lie down . " 2. " An wha met ye there , Lord Randal , my son ? An wha met you there , my handsome young man ? " " OI met wi my true - love ; mother , mak my bed soon , For I'm wearied wi ...
... soon , For I'm wearied wi hunting , and fain wad lie down . " 2. " An wha met ye there , Lord Randal , my son ? An wha met you there , my handsome young man ? " " OI met wi my true - love ; mother , mak my bed soon , For I'm wearied wi ...
Page 170
... soon , For I'm wearied wi huntin , an fain wad lie down . " 6. " O I fear you are poisoned , Lord Randal , my son ! I fear you are poisoned , my handsome young man ! " " O yes , I am poisoned ; mother , mak my bed soon , For I'm sick at ...
... soon , For I'm wearied wi huntin , an fain wad lie down . " 6. " O I fear you are poisoned , Lord Randal , my son ! I fear you are poisoned , my handsome young man ! " " O yes , I am poisoned ; mother , mak my bed soon , For I'm sick at ...
Page 308
... Soon break , soon wither , soon forgotten , In folly ripe , in reason rotten . Thy belt of straw and ivy buds , Thy coral clasps and amber studs , All these in me no means can move To come to thee and be thy love . But could youth last ...
... Soon break , soon wither , soon forgotten , In folly ripe , in reason rotten . Thy belt of straw and ivy buds , Thy coral clasps and amber studs , All these in me no means can move To come to thee and be thy love . But could youth last ...
Contents
1425 | 3 |
MIDDLE ENGLISH LITERATURE | 58 |
GEOFFREY CHAUCER | 97 |
Copyright | |
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Common terms and phrases
1st Shep 2nd Shep 3rd Shep beauty Ben Jonson Beowulf called Chaucer court dead dear death doth earth Ecgtheow English eyes fair father fear frier give glory gold grace green Grendel hand hath head Healfdene heard heart Heaven Hell Heorot hero honor Hrothgar Hygelac Iliad John Johnson Jutes king King Arthur knight lady leave live look Lord Lord Randal Majesty mind morning mother nature never noble o'er Ovid poem poet poetry praise prince Queen quoth Robin Hood round Scyldings shal sing Sir Bedivere Sir Gawain Sir Lucan Sir Mordred song soon soul sweet sword tell thee ther thine things thou hast thought took tree twa sisters unto verse whan wife wolde words