Reliques of Ancient English Poetry: Consisting of Old Heroic Ballads, Songs, and Other Pieces of Our Earlier Poets; Together with Some Few of Later Date, Том 3F.C. and J. Rivington, 1812 |
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Стр. 71
... teares fast trickled downe his face ; That manlye face in fight so bolde . Nowe reste yee all , brave knights , he said , Soe true and faithful to your trust : And must yee then , ye valiant hearts , Be lefte to moulder into dust ! 65 ...
... teares fast trickled downe his face ; That manlye face in fight so bolde . Nowe reste yee all , brave knights , he said , Soe true and faithful to your trust : And must yee then , ye valiant hearts , Be lefte to moulder into dust ! 65 ...
Стр. 90
... teares he for his master wept Were blent water and bloude . And that beheard his deare mastèr As he stood at his garden pale : Sayes , Ever alacke , my litle foot - page , 35 What causes thee to wail ? Hath any one done to thee wronge ...
... teares he for his master wept Were blent water and bloude . And that beheard his deare mastèr As he stood at his garden pale : Sayes , Ever alacke , my litle foot - page , 35 What causes thee to wail ? Hath any one done to thee wronge ...
Стр. 128
... teares did flow . It chanc'd the king of that same place With all his lords a hunting was , And seeing me weepe , upon the same Askt who I was , and whence I came . 20 25 30 35 40 Then Then to his grace I did replye , I am 128 THE LADY ...
... teares did flow . It chanc'd the king of that same place With all his lords a hunting was , And seeing me weepe , upon the same Askt who I was , and whence I came . 20 25 30 35 40 Then Then to his grace I did replye , I am 128 THE LADY ...
Стр. 131
... so melodiouslłe . Thus heard he everye word I sed , And saw the pearlye teares I shed , 110 And found to his amazement there , Sweete William was a ladye faire . K 2 Then Then stepping in , Faire ladye , rise , And SERVING - MAN . 131.
... so melodiouslłe . Thus heard he everye word I sed , And saw the pearlye teares I shed , 110 And found to his amazement there , Sweete William was a ladye faire . K 2 Then Then stepping in , Faire ladye , rise , And SERVING - MAN . 131.
Стр. 159
... teares , and sighes , and cryes , All weeping to him with complaining eyes . There tender ladyes in darke dungeons lay , That were surprised in the desart wood , And had noe other dyett everye day , But flesh of humane creatures for ...
... teares , and sighes , and cryes , All weeping to him with complaining eyes . There tender ladyes in darke dungeons lay , That were surprised in the desart wood , And had noe other dyett everye day , But flesh of humane creatures for ...
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ancient awaye ballad Barbara Allen Bevis black-letter bower brest bride bright castle Childe Waters Chivalry clubb Cotton Library dame daughter daye deare death distichs doth dragon Editor's folio Ellen eyes fair Annet Fairies father fell foot-page France French gentle George Gill Morice gold grone Guenever gyant hand hart hast hath head heart Honi soit intitled King Arthur kisse knight lady ladye land Library litle little Musgrave lord Barnard lord Thomas maid mantle manye Margret merry miller Mordred never noble old Romance Pepys Collection poem Poetry praye prince printed copy queene quoth quoth hee sayd sayes shee shew shold sir Gawaine Sir Kay Sir Lybius song sonne sore stanzas steede story sweet William sword tale teares tell thee thou true love unkle unto Whan wife WITCH wold zour
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Стр. 254 - When in one night, ere glimpse of morn, His shadowy flail hath threshed the corn That ten day-labourers could not end ; Then lies him down the lubber fiend, And, stretched out all the chimney's length, Basks at the fire his hairy strength, And crop-full out of doors he flings, Ere the first cock his matin rings.
Стр. 219 - Still to be neat, still to be drest, As you were going to a feast; Still to be powdered, still perfumed: Lady, it is to be presumed, Though art's hid causes are not found, All is not sweet, all is not sound. Give me a look, give me a face, That makes simplicity a grace; Robes loosely flowing, hair as free; Such sweet neglect more taketh me Than all th...
Стр. 126 - At cards for kisses — Cupid paid ; He stakes his quiver, bow and arrows, His mother's doves, and team of sparrows ; Loses them too ; then down he throws The coral of his lip, the rose Growing on's cheek (but none knows how) ; With these, the crystal of his brow, And then the dimple of his chin : All these did my Campaspe win. At last he set her both his eyes, She won, and Cupid blind did rise. O Love ! has she done this to thee ? What shall, alas ! become of me...
Стр. 393 - So shall the fairest face appear When youth and years are flown; Such is the robe that kings must wear When death has reft their crown.
Стр. 302 - HE that loves a rosy Cheek, Or a coral Lip admires ; Or from star-like Eyes doth seek Fuel to maintain his fires : As old Time makes these decay, So his flames must waste away ! But a smooth and steadfast Mind, Gentle Thoughts, and calm Desires, Hearts with equal love combined, Kindle never-dying fires ! Where these are not ; I despise Lovely Cheeks ! or Lips ! or Eyes...
Стр. 337 - Tell me not, Sweet, I am unkind That from the nunnery Of thy chaste breast and quiet mind, To war and arms I fly. True, a new mistress now I chase, The first foe in the field; And with a stronger faith embrace A sword, a horse, a shield. Yet this inconstancy is such As you too shall adore; I could not love thee, dear, so much, Loved I not honour more.
Стр. 243 - Think what with them they would do That without them dare to woo ; And unless that mind I see, What care I how great she be ? Great, or good, or kind, or fair, I will ne'er the more despair: If she love me, this believe, I will die ere she shall grieve : If she slight me when I woo, I can scorn and let her go ; For if she be not for me, What care I for whom she be ? George Wither.
Стр. 265 - Mary's days On many a grassy plain. But since of late Elizabeth, And, later, James came in, They never danced on any heath, As when the time hath bin.
Стр. 126 - ... paid; He stakes his quiver, bow and arrows, His mother's doves, and team of sparrows; Loses them too; then down he throws The coral of his lip, the rose Growing on's cheek (but none knows how), With these, the crystal of his brow, And then the dimple of his chin; All these did my Campaspe win. At last he set her both his eyes, She won, and Cupid blind did rise. O Love! has she done this to thee? What shall, alas! become of me? THE SONGS OF BIRDS What bird so sings, yet so does wail? O 'tis the...