The English Parnassus, or, A helpe to English poesie containing a collection of all rhyming monosyllables, the choicest epithets, and phrases : with some general forms upon all occasions, subjects, and theams, alphabeticaly digested : together with a short institution to English poesie, by way of a preface / by Joshua Poole.

About this Item

Title
The English Parnassus, or, A helpe to English poesie containing a collection of all rhyming monosyllables, the choicest epithets, and phrases : with some general forms upon all occasions, subjects, and theams, alphabeticaly digested : together with a short institution to English poesie, by way of a preface / by Joshua Poole.
Author
Poole, Josua, fl. 1632-1646.
Publication
London :: Printed for Tho. Johnson,
1657.
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Subject terms
English poetry.
Epithets.
English language -- Rhyme -- Dictionaries.
Link to this Item
http://name.umdl.umich.edu/A55357.0001.001
Cite this Item
"The English Parnassus, or, A helpe to English poesie containing a collection of all rhyming monosyllables, the choicest epithets, and phrases : with some general forms upon all occasions, subjects, and theams, alphabeticaly digested : together with a short institution to English poesie, by way of a preface / by Joshua Poole." In the digital collection Early English Books Online 2. https://name.umdl.umich.edu/A55357.0001.001. University of Michigan Library Digital Collections. Accessed June 16, 2024.

Pages

Silent. Silence.
The grave of thoughts. As silent as the house of sleepe. No crested fowles shrill crowing here awake The chearful morne, no barking sentinel Here guards, nor geese, who wakefull dogs excell, Beasts tame or savage, no wind-shaken boughs, Nor strife of jarring tongues with noises rouse Secured ease No door here on their creeking hinges jard As still as midnight. Clamour grew dumbe, unheard was shepheards tongue, And silence girt the woods, no warbling tongue Talkt to the Eccho. Sayres broke their dance, And all the upper world lay in a trance. Silent as death. As the shade, where chaos lay before the winds were made Only the curled streams soft chidings kept, And litle gales that from the green leafe swept, Dy summers dust in fearfull whispering stird, As loath to waken any singing bird.
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