Mistress Davenant, the dark lady of Shakespeare's sonnets: demonstrating the identity of the dark lady of the sonnets and the authorship and satirical intention of Willobie his Avisa. With a reprint of Willobie his Avisa (in part), Penelope's complaint, An Elegie, Constant Susanna, Queen Dido, Pyramus and Thisbe, The Shepherd's slumber, and sundry other poems by the same author (Google eBook)

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B. Quaritch, 1913 - 332 pages
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Page 37 - Not mine own fears, nor the prophetic soul Of the wide world dreaming on things to come, Can yet the lease of my true love control, Supposed as forfeit to a confined doom.
Page 16 - When to the sessions of sweet silent thought I summon up remembrance of things past, I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought, And with old woes new wail my dear time's waste...
Page 38 - Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea, But sad mortality o'er-sways their power, How with this rage shall beauty hold a plea, Whose action is no stronger than a flower?
Page 36 - When in the chronicle of wasted time I see descriptions of the fairest wights, And beauty making beautiful old rhyme, In praise of ladies dead, and lovely knights, Then, in the blazon of sweet beauty's best, Of hand, of foot, of lip, of eye, of brow, I see their antique pen would have expressed Even such a beauty as you master now.
Page 64 - Past reason hated, as a swallow'd bait On purpose laid to make the taker mad; Mad in pursuit, and in possession so; Had, having, and in quest to have, extreme; A bliss in proof, and proved, a very woe; Before, a joy proposed; behind, a dream.
Page 189 - But love, first learned in a lady's eyes, Lives not alone immured in the brain, But, with the motion of all elements, Courses as swift as thought in every power, And gives to every power a double power, Above their functions and their offices.
Page 23 - So am I as the rich, whose blessed key Can bring him to his sweet up-locked treasure, The which he will not every hour survey, For blunting the fine point of seldom pleasure. Therefore are feasts so solemn and so rare, Since seldom coming, in the long year set, Like stones of worth they thinly placed are, Or captain* jewels in the carcanet.
Page 66 - tis true, I have gone here and there, And made myself a motley to the view, Gored mine own thoughts, sold cheap what is most dear, Made old offences of affections new.
Page 20 - But then begins a journey in my head, To work my mind, when body's work's expired: For then my thoughts, from far where I abide, Intend a zealous pilgrimage to thee...
Page 33 - What is your substance, whereof are you made, That millions of strange shadows on you tend? Since every one hath, every one, one shade, And you, but one, can every shadow lend. Describe Adonis, and the counterfeit Is poorly imitated after you ; On Helen's cheek all art of beauty set, And you in Grecian tires are painted new...

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