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612-822-4611
Publications of the Spenser Society (Volume 23 )

Publications of the Spenser Society (Volume 23 )

Paperback

Currently unavailable to order

ISBN10: 1235758052
ISBN13: 9781235758058
Publisher: General Books
Weight: 0.17
Height: 0.07 Width: 7.44 Depth: 9.69
Language: English
This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated.1878 Excerpt: ... Cant. I. The tyrant Aimaran oppres'th the inst, Wlwse miseries reuenge doth soone acquite, That basely layes his honour in the dust: And curtains vp his names obscured light, WIdle Bdellaes walls downe to the earth are borne, Whose haughty tops did kiffe the skie beforne. OF bloody gusts, and thofe vermilion fwordes, Which didethemfelues in Brothers broken hearts, Howfwimmingblood in streets made flowing fords, And ruthfull turmoyles rofe in diuers parts I meane to sing: That fury which affords Sighs to the fad, and pearc'th with Ebon darts: Come with thy fnaky head engorde in blood, Which while thefe things were done fpectator stoode: List vp blacke Nemesis thy glowing eyes, With Orcus vapours ouerspread the light, Let not the Sunne from out his couch arife: But let me write in darke thefe deedes of night, Only that burning torch shall here fuffife, Whofe waxe is thickned blood around bedight: About the sinew of a conquerd foe, This gloomy light about my eyes shall gloc. And roare thou from thy earth appaling iaw, Put me in minde of dread and defolations, Let vncouth sights keepe downe my thoughts in aw: As burning blood in fiery exhalations, And Rauens which a dying carkasle draw, While deadly fcreeches helpe to paint their passions, While harpyes, Owles, and Night-crowes all around, Fluttring about me breath a gastly found. And And thou death-boding Mufe whofe Tragick quill Painteth each ruthfull stratagem aright, My pen with that fame dreery water fill, Whofe dropping letters readers doe afright, Whither from Stixes streames it doth distill, Or Mare Rubrums floods oreuaylde with night: That this my Cronicle of woe and death, May feeme a dying foules last powred breath. And thou Sedition still thyfelf prefent, That euery member right I may display, And whisp...

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