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P. Ovidius Naso, Metamorphoses (ed. Arthur Golding) | 10 | 0 | Browse | Search |
Flavius Josephus, The Wars of the Jews (ed. William Whiston, A.M.) | 2 | 0 | Browse | Search |
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Your search returned 12 results in 4 document sections:
Flavius Josephus, The Wars of the Jews (ed. William Whiston, A.M.), Book I, section 99 (search)
P. Ovidius Naso, Metamorphoses (ed. Arthur Golding), Book 5, line 409 (search)
Betweene the fountaines of Cyane and Arethuse of Pise
An arme of Sea that meetes enclosde with narrow homes there lies.
Of this the Poole callde Cyane which beareth greatest fame
Among the Nymphes of Sicilie did algates take the name.
Who vauncing hir unto the waste amid hir Poole did know
Dame Proserpine, and said to Dis: Ye shall no further go:
You cannot Ceres sonneinlawe be, will she so or no.
You should have sought hir courteously and not enforst hir so.
And if I may with great estates my simple things compare,
Anapus was in love with me: but yet he did not fare
As you doe now with Proserpine. He was content to woo
And I unforst and unconstreind consented him untoo.
This said, she spreaded forth hir armes and stopt him of his way.
His hastie wrath Saturnus sonne no lenger then could stay.
But chearing up his dreadfull Steedes did smight his royall mace
With violence in the bottome of the Poole in that same place.
The ground streight yeelded to his stroke and made him wa
P. Ovidius Naso, Metamorphoses (ed. Arthur Golding), Book 5, line 487 (search)
Then Arethuse, floud Alpheys love, lifts from hir Elean waves
Hir head, and shedding to hir eares hir deawy haire that waves
About hir foreheade sayde: O thou that art the mother deare
Both of the Maiden sought through all the world both far and neare,
And eke of all the earthly fruites, forbeare thine endlesse toyle,
And be not wroth without a cause with this thy faithfull soyle:
The Lande deserves no punishment. Unwillingly, God wote,
She opened to the Ravisher that violently hir smote.
It is not sure my native soyle for which I thus entreate.
I am but here a sojourner, my native soyle and seate
Is Pisa and from Ely towne I fetch my first discent.
I dwell but as a straunger here: but sure to my intent
This Countrie likes me better farre than any other land.
Here now I Arethusa dwell: here am I setled: and
I humbly you beseche extend your favour to the same.
A time will one day come when you to mirth may better frame,
And have your heart more free from care, which be
P. Ovidius Naso, Metamorphoses (ed. Arthur Golding), Book 5, line 572 (search)
Then fruitfull Ceres voide of care in that she did recover
Hir daughter, prayde thee, Arethuse, the storie to discover,
What caused thee to fleete so farre and wherefore thou became
A sacred spring? The waters whist. The Goddesse of the same
Did from the bottome of the Well hir goodly head up reare.
And having dried with hir are perchaunce I should have scaped out.
And twice not knowing what to doe he stalkt about the cloude
Where Diane had me hid, and twice he called out aloude:
Hoe Arethuse, hoe Arethuse. What heart had I poore wretch then?
Even such as hath the sillie Lambe that dares not stirre nor quetch when
He heares the howling of the Wolfe aArethuse. What heart had I poore wretch then?
Even such as hath the sillie Lambe that dares not stirre nor quetch when
He heares the howling of the Wolfe about or neare the foldes,
Or such as hath the squatted Hare that in hir foorme beholdes
The hunting houndes on every side, and dares not move a whit,
He would not thence, for why he saw no footing out as yit.
And therefore watcht he narrowly the cloud and eke the place.
A chill colde sweat my sieged limmes opprest, and downe a