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Asphodel

Name: Asphodel
Author: Mary Elizabeth Braddon

Mary Elizabeth Braddon

Read by Jim Locke, jenno, Rachel Lintern and Lynda Marie Neilson · LibriVox · public domain · Archive.org recording · License

Chapters

Open a chapter to play its MP3 recording.

I. ' And she was fair as is the rose in May ' (28:37)
II. ' And this was gladly in the Eventide ' (26:12)
III. ' And Volatile, as ay was his usage ' (42:50)
IV. ' CURTEIS she was, discrete, AND DEBONAIRE ' (36:02)
V. ' Thou lovest me, that wot I wel certain ' (40:56)
VI. ' Love maketh all to gone misway ' (43:52)
VII. ' His Herte bathed in a Bath of Blisse ' (37:18)
VIII. ' God wote that worldly Joy is sone ago ' (35:31)
IX. ' Of Colour pale and dead was she ' (28:41)
X. ' And spending Silver had he right ynow ' (30:17)
XI. ' Yeve me my Deth, or that I have a Shame ' (34:22)
XII. ' And to the Dinner faste they hem spedde ' (36:20)
XIII ' After my Might ful fayne wold I you plese ' (33:24)
XIV. ' Love is a Thing, as any Spirit, free ' (34:21)
XV. ' Not for your Linage, ne for your Richesse ' (23:28)
XVI. ' No Man may alway have Prosperitee ' (32:34)
XVII. ' And in my Herte wondren I began ' (40:35)
XVIII. ' Love wol not be constreined by Maistrie ' (38:56)
XIX. ' I deme that hire herte was ful of wo ' (35:15)
XX. ' Al sodenly she swapt adown to Ground ' (32:37)
XXI. ' For Wele or Wo, for Carole, or for Daunce ' (36:33)
XXII. ' For I wol gladly yelden hire my Place ' (29:17)
XXIII. ' And COME agen, be it by Day or Night ' (26:31)
XXIV. ' Ay fleth the Time, it wol no Man abide ' (33:17)
XXV. ' But I wot best wher wringeth me my Sho ' (37:41)
XXVI. ' Forbid A Love and it is ten Times so wode ' (25:34)
XXVII. ' I may not don as any ploughman may' (27:39)
XXVIII. ' Love is not old, as whan that it is new ' (42:46)
XXIX. ' I meane well, by God that sit above ' (45:29)
XXX. ' Ther was no Wight, to whom she durste plain ' (49:51)
XXXI. ' I wolde live in Pees, if that I might ' (30:28)
XXXII. ' For Love and not for Hate thou must be ded ' (33:42)
XXXIII. ' Is there no Grace ? Is there no Remedie ?' (56:52)
XXXIV. ' Sens Love hath brought us to this piteous End ' (23:09)