 | William Beloe - 1807 - 468 sayfa
...Within mine eyes he makes his nest, His bed amidst my tender breast, My kisses are his daily feast, And yet he robs me of my rest. Ah Wanton will ye ? And if I sleepe then pearcheth he With prettie flight, And makes his pillow of my knee The live long night.... | |
 | John Bodenham - 1812 - 318 sayfa
...Within mine eyes he makes his nest, His bed amidst my tender brest, My kisses are his daily feast, And yet he robs me of my rest. Ah wanton will ye? And if I sleepe, then pierceth he, With pretlie slight : And makes his pillow of my knee, The liue long night.... | |
 | Sir Egerton Brydges - 1812 - 502 sayfa
...Within mine eyes he makes his nest, His bed amidst my tender brest, My kisses are his daily feast, And yet he robs me of my rest. Ah wanton will ye? L iiij And And if I sleepe, then pierceth he, With prettie slight : And makes his pillow of my knee,... | |
 | John Bodenham - 1812 - 478 sayfa
...Within mine eyes he makes his nest, His bed amidst my tender brest, My kisses are his daily feast, And yet he robs me of my rest. Ah wanton will ye ? U iiij And Aid if I sleepe, then piercetk he, With prettie slight: And makes bis pillow of my knee,... | |
 | Sir Egerton Brydges, Joseph Haslewood - 1812 - 316 sayfa
...Within mine eyes he makes his rtstj His bed amids-t my tender breast; My kisses are his- daily feast ; And yet he robs me of my rest. Ah, wanton, will ye r" In the present age, if there be a fashion which indulges in too indiscriminate a love of antiquity,... | |
 | Thomas Campbell - 1819 - 420 sayfa
...Within mine eyes he makes his nest, His bed amidst my tender breast ; My kisses are his daily feast, And yet he robs me of my rest : Ah, wanton, will ye ! And if I sleep, then pierceth he With pretty slight ; And makes his pillow of my knee The live-long night. Strike I my late,... | |
 | Thomas Lodge - 1819 - 146 sayfa
...Within mine eyes he makes his nest, His bed amidst my tender brest, My kisses are his dayly feast, And yet he robs me of my rest. Ah wanton, will ye ? And if I sleepe, then pearcheth he With pretty flight, And makes his pillow of my knee The liuelong night. Strike... | |
 | Thomas Campbell - 1819 - 432 sayfa
...Within mine eyes he makes his nest, His bed amidst my tender breast ; My kisses are his daily feast, And yet he robs me of my rest : Ah, wanton, will ye 1 And if I sleep, then pierceth he With pretty slight ; And makes his pillow of my knee The live-long... | |
 | 1820 - 442 sayfa
...nest, His bed amid my tender breast ; My kisses are his daily feast, And yet he robs me of my rest. Strike I my lute — he tunes the string, He music plays, if I so sing : He lends me every thing, Yet, cruel, he my heart doth sting. What if I beat the wanton... | |
 | William Beloe, Thomas Fanshaw Middleton, William Rowe Lyall, Robert Nares - 1823 - 700 sayfa
...nest, His bed amid my tender breast ; My kisses are his daily feast, And yet he robs me of my rest. " Strike I my lute — he tunes the string, He music plays, if I do sing ; He lends me every living thing, Yet cruel he my heart doth sting. " What, if I beat the... | |
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Love in my bosom like a bee Doth suck his sweet: Now with his wings he plays with me, Now with his feet. Within mine eyes he makes his nest, His bed amidst my tender breast; My kisses are his daily feast, And yet he robs me of my rest. Ah, wanton, will... 
