Quote by Geoffrey Chaucer Download Open image “The bisy larke, messager of day.” — Geoffrey Chaucer ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ 4.7 out of 5 (7 ratings) Copy quoteShare
The music soars within the little lark, And the lark soars. — Elizabeth Barrett Browning Copy Share Image
I walk where once the grass was green And mourn the lark that sings no more What bird could sing whose eyes have seen… — Tom Springfield Copy Share Image
“A lark, caught in a hunter’s net Sang sweeter then than ever, As if the falling melody Might wing and net dissever At dusk… — Ken Follett Copy Share Image
5.Buggre Alle this for a Larke I amme sick to mye Hart of typefetinge. Master Biltonn if no Gentelmann, and Master Scagges now more… — Anonymous Copy Share Image
“There were no larks anymore. There was only the setting sun spreading blood up the sky and the yowl of hounds on a breast-high… — Anonymous Copy Share Image
Aubade THE lark now leaves his wat'ry nest, And climbing shakes his dewy wings. He takes this window for the East, And to implore your light he sings- Awake, awake! the morn will never rise Till she can dress her beauty at your eyes. The merchant bows unto the seaman's star, The ploughman from the sun his season takes, But… — William Davenant Copy Share
The embrace of present and past time, in which English antiquarianism becomes a form of alchemy, engenders a strange timelessness. It is as if the little bird which flew through the Anglo-Saxon banqueting hall, in Bede's Historia Ecclesiastica Gentis Anglorum, gained the outer air and became the lark ascending in Vaughan Williams's orchestral setting. The unbroken chain is that of… — Peter Ackroyd Copy Share
The nightingale has a lyre of gold, The lark's is a clarion call, And the blackbird plays but a boxwood flute, But I love… — William Ernest Henley Copy Share Image
“From somewhere in the blue vault of heaven overhead came the joyous trilling of a lark, from below the silken rustling of the tideless… — Rafael Sabatini Copy Share Image
“It is an effort to descend down the hand-holds of memory to the plain beneath, to recall the lost future, the dusk hovering above… — J.A. Baker Copy Share Image
Drunkenness is the very sepulcher Of man's wit and his discretion. — Geoffrey Chaucer Copy Share Image
Whoso will pray, he must fast and be clean, And fat his soul, and make his body lean. — Geoffrey Chaucer Copy Share Image
The handsome gifts that fate and nature lend us Most often are the very ones that end us. — Geoffrey Chaucer Copy Share Image
Patience is a conquering virtue. The learned say that, if it not desert you, It vanquishes what force can never reach; Why answer back… — Geoffrey Chaucer Copy Share Image
“This Nicholas anon leet fle a fart As greet as it had been a thonder-dent, That with the strook he was almoost yblent; And… — Geoffrey Chaucer Copy Share Image
A whetstone is no carving instrument, And yet it maketh sharp the carving tool; And if you see my efforts wrongly spent, Eschew that… — Geoffrey Chaucer Copy Share Image
“In general, my liege lady,’ he began, ‘Women desire to have dominion Over their husbands, and their lovers too; They want to have mastery… — Geoffrey Chaucer Copy Share Image
Venus me yaf my lust, my like rousnesse, And Mars yaf me my sturdy hardinesse. — Geoffrey Chaucer Copy Share Image
“For sondry scoles maken sotile clerkis; Womman of manye scoles half a clerk is.” — Geoffrey Chaucer Copy Share Image
