 | Harold Bloom - 2001 - 750 pagini
...nightingale and not the lark / That pierc'd the fearful hollow of thine ear. / Nightly she sings on yond pomegranate tree. / Believe me, love, it was the nightingale....lace the severing clouds in yonder east. / Night's canilles are burnt out, and jocund day / Stands típtoe on the misty mountain tops, / I must be gone... | |
 | Frances Mayes - 2001 - 548 pagini
...thine ear. Nightly she sings on yond pomegranate tree. Believe me, love, it was the nightingale. ROMEO It was the lark, the herald of the morn; No nightingale....candles are burnt out, and jocund day Stands tiptoe on the misty mountaintops. I must be gone and live, or stay and die. JULIET Yond light is not daylight;... | |
 | William Shakespeare - 2001 - 656 pagini
...darkness like a drunkard reels From forth day's path and Titan's fiery wheels.' — Rom.&Jul., II, iii, i; 'look, love, what envious streaks Do lace the severing...jocund day Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops.' — Ibid., III, v, 7; 'yon gray lines That fret the clouds are messengers of day.' — Jul. CaS., II,... | |
 | Moritz Rinke - 2001 - 132 pagini
[ Ne pare rău, conținutul acestei pagini este restricționat ] | |
 | William Shakespeare - 1989 - 1286 pagini
...thine ear; Nightly she sings on yond pomegranate-tree: Believe me, love, it was the nightingale. ROMEO. R WRIT IN BRASS. BUT, SINCE HE CANNOT, READER, LOOK, NOT ON HIS PICTURE, BUT HIS BOOK. BEN: JULIET. Yond light is not day-light, I know it, I: It is some meteor that the sun exhales, To be to... | |
 | Michelle Lee - 2002 - 444 pagini
[ Ne pare rău, conținutul acestei pagini este restricționat ] | |
 | G. Wilsin Knight - 2002 - 368 pagini
...thine ear; Nightly she sings on yond pomegranate tree: Believe me, love, it was the nightingale. Romeo. It was the lark, the herald of the morn, No nightingale:...jocund day Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops. Juliet. Yond light is not daylight, I know it, I: It is some meteor that the sun exhales, To be to... | |
 | S. L. Clifford - 2001 - 532 pagini
[ Ne pare rău, conținutul acestei pagini este restricționat ] | |
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It was the lark, the herald of the morn, No nightingale : look, love, what envious streaks Do lace the severing clouds in yonder east : Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops ; I must be gone and live, or... 
