König Eduard III. von England im Lichte europäischer Poesie, Parts 6-10

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C. Winter, 1901 - Poetry - 100 pages
 

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Page 52 - Give ample room and verge enough The characters of hell to trace. Mark the year and mark the night When Severn shall re-echo with affright The shrieks of death through Berkley's roof that ring, Shrieks of an agonizing king! She-wolf of France, with unrelenting fangs That tear'st the bowels of thy mangled mate, From thee be born, who o'er thy country hangs The scourge of heaven! What terrors round him wait! Amazement in his van, with flight combined, And sorrow's faded form, and solitude behind.
Page 51 - Weave the warp and weave the woof, The winding-sheet of Edward's race; Give ample room and verge, enough The characters of hell to trace...
Page 41 - The troublesome Raigne and lamentable Death of Edward the Second, King of England: with the tragicall fall of proud Mortimer.
Page 48 - Or raise old warriors, whose ador'd remains In weeping vaults her hallow'd earth contains ! With Edward's acts adorn the shining page, Stretch his long triumphs down...
Page 47 - As those brave Edwards, father and the son, At conquer'd Cressy with successful luck. Where first all France (as at one game) they won, Never two warriors such a battle struck, That when the bloody dismal fight was done, Here in one heap, there in another ruck, Princes and peasants lay together mixt, The English swords no difference knew betwixt...
Page 43 - Good; He builds up Strength and Greatness for his Heirs, Out of the Virtues that adorn'd his Blood. He makes his Subjects Lords of more than theirs, And sets their Bounds far wider than they stood. His Pow'r and Fortune had sufficient wrought, Could but the State have kept what He had got.
Page 46 - let not his blood be spilt. So often ventured to redeem thy crown. In all his life can there be found that guilt ? Think of his love, on which thou once shouldst frown...
Page 61 - Archivalische Nachrichten über die Theaterzustände von Hildesheim. Lübeck, Lüneburg im 16. und 17. Jahrhundert. Bremen : C. Ed.
Page 46 - Even for the love thou bear'st to that dear blood From which, my son, thou didst receive thy life, Play not the niggard in so small a good With her to whom thy bounties should be rife...
Page 52 - And Sorrow's faded form, and Solitude behind. II. 2 'Mighty victor, mighty lord ! Low on his funeral couch he lies: No pitying heart, no eye, afford A tear to grace his obsequies.

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