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LibraryThing ReviewUser Review - merlin1234 - LibraryThing
Early play by John Fletcher (sans Francis Beaumont). Not much to say about this, the usual shepherd pastoral with a sort of anti-Prospero causing havoc. Nice poetry, the satyr gets the best lines. Read full review
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Alexis Amar Amarillis Amoret arms beast better blood body bower break bright bring chaste Cloe Clorin cold comes cure dare dead dear desire doth dwell Enter Exit eyes face fair Faithful fall fear fire flame Fletcher flocks follow force foul gentle give green ground hand happy hast hath heart heat Heaven herbs hold holy hope keep kiss leave lest light live lust maid meet mortal nature never night once pain pastoral Peri Perigot play Priest pure rest rise Satyr SCENE Shep shepherd shepherdess side sight sing soul speak spring stand stay sure swain sweet tell thee thou thou art thoughts tree true unto virgin virtuous wanton whilst wind wood wound yonder young
Page 28 - Hovering o'er the wanton face Of these pastures, where they come, Striking dead both bud and bloom : Therefore, from such danger lock Every one his loved flock ; And let your dogs lie loose without, Lest the wolf come as a scout From the mountain, and, ere day, Bear a lamb or kid away; Or the crafty thievish fox Break upon your simple flocks. To secure...
Page 10 - Hath deck'd their rising cheeks in red, Such as on your lips is spread. Here be berries for a queen, Some be red, some be green ; These are of that luscious meat, The great god Pan himself doth eat : All these, and what the woods can yield, The hanging mountain or the field, I freely offer, and ere long Will bring you more, more sweet and strong ; Till when humbly leave I take, Lest the great Pan do awake, That sleeping lies in a deep glade, Under a broad beech's shade : I must go, I must run Swifter...
Page 23 - I sit by and sing, Or gather rushes, to make many a ring For thy long fingers ; tell thee tales of love ; How the pale Phoebe, hunting in a grove, First saw the boy Endymion, from whose eyes She took eternal fire that never dies ; How she...
Page 16 - For to that holy wood is consecrate A Virtuous Well, about whose flowery banks The nimble-footed fairies dance their rounds By the pale moon-shine, dipping oftentimes Their stolen children, so to make them free From dying flesh, and dull mortality.
Page 63 - Do not fear to put thy feet Naked in the river sweet ' ; Think not leech, or newt, or toad, Will bite thy foot, when thou hast trod ; Nor let the water rising high, As thou wad'st in, make thee cry And sob ; but ever live with me, And not a wave shall trouble thee.
Page 85 - See, the day begins to break, And the light shoots like a streak Of subtle fire ; the wind blows cold, Whilst the morning doth unfold ; Now the birds begin to rouse, And the squirrel from the boughs Leaps, to get him nuts and fruit ; The early lark, that erst was mute, Carols to the rising day Many a note and many a lay : Therefore here I end my watch, Lest the wandering swain should catch Harm, or lose himself.
Page 115 - Apollo ; tell me, sweetest, What new service now is meetest For the Satyr? Shall I stray In the middle air, and stay The sailing rack, or nimbly take Hold by the moon, and gently make Suit to the pale queen of night For a beam to give thee light? Shall I dive into the sea, And bring thee coral, making way Through the rising waves that fall In snowy fleeces ? Dearest, shall I catch thee wanton fawns, or flies Whose woven wings the summer dyes Of many colours ? get thee fruit, Or steal from Heaven...
Page 9 - By that heavenly form of thine, Brightest fair, thou art divine, Sprung from great immortal race Of the gods, for in thy face Shines more awful majesty Than dull weak mortality. Dare with misty eyes behold, And live: therefore on this mould Lowly do I bend my knee In worship of thy deity.
Page 62 - Tis a sign of life and heat. — If thou be'st a virgin pure, I can give a present cure : Take a drop into thy wound, From my watery locks, more round Than orient pearl, and far more pure Than unchaste flesh may endure. — See, she pants, and from her flesh The warm blood gusheth out afresh. She is an unpolluted maid ; I must have this bleeding stayed.