 | William Shakespeare - 1994 - 212 sivua
...every shepherd's tongue, These pretty pleasures might me move To live with thee and be thy love. 6 As it fell upon a day In the merry month of May, Sitting in a pleasant shade Which a grove of myrdes made, Beasts did leap and birds did sing, Trees did grow and plants did spring; Every thing... | |
 | Margaret Drabble - 1998 - 646 sivua
...(una lode del denaro, 1598). Due Poems in Divers Humors (1598) — la più nota délie quali era l'ode "As it fell upon a day/ In the merry month of May" — apparvero in The Passionate Pilgrim* ( 1 599) e furono in passato attribuite a Shakespeare. Barnfield... | |
 | William Shakespeare - 2002 - 768 sivua
...02; all EH 20 thy] 02; my oy, EH includes five additional stanzas here 2O As it fell upon a day, ln the merry month of May, Sitting in a pleasant shade,...myrtles made, Beasts did leap, and birds did sing, 5 Trees did grow, and plants did spring. Every thing did banish moan, Save the nightingale alone. She... | |
 | Ebenezer Cobham Brewer - 2004 - 592 sivua
...Lover's Melancholy, where Men'aphon is supposed to tell it to Ame'thus (1628). Nightingale and the Thorn. As it fell upon a day In the merry month of May, Sitting...birds did sing, Trees did grow, and plants did spring, Everything did banish moan, Save the nightingale alone ; She, poor bird, as all forlorn. Leaned her... | |
 | Penny McCarthy - 2006 - 290 sivua
...or imitation. And turning to Barnfield's contributions to PP, we find that one of his poems, the ode 'As it fell upon a day/ In the merry month of May' (number 20), could well be placed in that category also, being so obviously related to Shakespeare's... | |
 | William Shakespeare - 2007 - 297 sivua
...every shepherd's tongue, These pretty pleasures might me mov* To live with thee and be thy love. VI. As it fell upon a day, In the merry month of May, Sitting in a pleasant shade With a grove of myrtles made, Beasts did leap, and birds did sing, Trees did grow, and plants did spring;... | |
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Every thing did banish moan, Save the nightingale alone : She, poor bird, as all forlorn, Lean'd her breast up-till a thorn, And there sung the dolefull'st ditty, That to hear it was great pity : 
