Ancient Ballads and Songs, Chiefly from Tradition, Manuscripts, and Scarce Works...L. Relfe, 1827 - Всего страниц: 250 |
Результаты поиска по книге
Результаты 1 – 5 из 60
Стр. 19
... thou shouldst break , as God forbid , Then should desert want his reward : Hope well to have , hate not sweet thought , Foul cruel storms fair calms have brought ; LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORMIA 19 After sharp showers the sun ...
... thou shouldst break , as God forbid , Then should desert want his reward : Hope well to have , hate not sweet thought , Foul cruel storms fair calms have brought ; LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORMIA 19 After sharp showers the sun ...
Стр. 20
... thou the best . Though wit bids will blow the retreat , Will cannot work as wit would wish ; When that the roach doth taste the bait , Too late to warn the hungry fish ; When cities burn on fiery flame , Great rivers scarce may quench ...
... thou the best . Though wit bids will blow the retreat , Will cannot work as wit would wish ; When that the roach doth taste the bait , Too late to warn the hungry fish ; When cities burn on fiery flame , Great rivers scarce may quench ...
Стр. 21
... thou art old , there's grief enough for thee . The wanton smiled , father wept , Mother cried , baby leap'd ; More he crow'd , more he cried , Nature could not sorrow hide , He must go , he must kiss Child and mother , baby bless ; For ...
... thou art old , there's grief enough for thee . The wanton smiled , father wept , Mother cried , baby leap'd ; More he crow'd , more he cried , Nature could not sorrow hide , He must go , he must kiss Child and mother , baby bless ; For ...
Стр. 23
... thou traitor born , What mischief more might thou devise , Than thy dear friend to have in scorn , And him to wound in sundry - wise , Which still a friend pretends to be , And art not so , by proof I see ; Fie , fie upon such treachery ...
... thou traitor born , What mischief more might thou devise , Than thy dear friend to have in scorn , And him to wound in sundry - wise , Which still a friend pretends to be , And art not so , by proof I see ; Fie , fie upon such treachery ...
Стр. 31
... thou softly on my knee , And let thy bower my bosom be ; Lurk in mine eyes , I like of thee , O Cupid ! so thou pity me ! Spare not , but play thee . 31 The above Ballad is by DR . THOMAS LODGE . His plays and poetry possess ...
... thou softly on my knee , And let thy bower my bosom be ; Lurk in mine eyes , I like of thee , O Cupid ! so thou pity me ! Spare not , but play thee . 31 The above Ballad is by DR . THOMAS LODGE . His plays and poetry possess ...
Другие издания - Просмотреть все
Ancient Ballads and Songs, Chiefly from Tradition, Manuscripts, and Acarce Works Thomas Lyle Недоступно для просмотра - 2008 |
Ancient Ballads and Songs, Chiefly from Tradition, Manuscripts, and Scarce Works Thomas Lyle Недоступно для просмотра - 1973 |
Ancient Ballads and Songs, Chiefly from Tradition, Manuscripts, and Scarce Works Недоступно для просмотра - 2019 |
Часто встречающиеся слова и выражения
ABERDEEN CANTUS adieu alace Anne hath Anne Hathaway auld wife Ballad beauty beauty's BEN JOHNSON Billy boy birds blooming blush bonnie lassie born bosom bower breath bright cheek cuckoo Cupid darling dear delight despair disdain doth Dunoon England's Helicon eyes fair fancy flowers fond foregoing frae glen grace green grief grove haste heart heaven Heigh-ho hope JOHN LYLY kiss lady lass Lauderdale lips live Lord Lord Delaware love good-morrow love's lover lusty maid mind morn muse ne'er never NICHOLAS BRETON night nymphs o'er pain pale poet poetry Poor auld maidens pretty Queen RICHARD LOVELACE rose round Rowallan ROWALLAN'S POEMS says Scottish sigh sing SIR WILLIAM MURE smile song Sonnets sorrow soul spring stanza stars summer sweet love tears thee thine THOMAS CAREW THOMAS MORLEY thou three ravens tree wanton weep wild wind WIND-FLOWER winter young
Популярные отрывки
Стр. 57 - SWEET Day, so cool, so calm, so bright, The bridal of the earth and sky, The dew shall weep thy fall to-night ; For thou must die. Sweet Rose, whose hue angry and brave Bids the rash gazer wipe his eye, Thy root is ever in its grave, And thou must die.
Стр. 78 - Go, lovely Rose, Tell her that wastes her time and me, That now she knows When I resemble her to thee How sweet and fair she seems to be.
Стр. 30 - I'll count your power not worth a pin: Alas, what hereby shall I win, If he gainsay me ? What if I beat the wanton boy With many a rod ? He will repay me with annoy, Because a god. Then sit thou safely on my knee, And let thy bower my bosom be, Lurk in mine eyes, I like of thee; O Cupid, so thou pity me, Spare not, but play thee.
Стр. 72 - Why so pale and wan, fond lover? Prithee, why so pale? Will, when looking well can't move her. Looking ill prevail? Prithee, why so pale?
Стр. 34 - Since ghost there is none to affright thee. Let not the dark thee cumber ; What though the moon does slumber? The stars of the night Will lend thee their light, Like tapers clear without number. Then, Julia, let me woo thee, Thus, thus to come unto me ; And when I shall meet Thy silvery feet, My soul I'll pour into thee.
Стр. 32 - At cards for kisses, Cupid paid; He stakes his quiver, bow, and arrows, His mother's doves, and team of sparrows...
Стр. 52 - I cannot eat but little meat, My stomach is not good ; But sure I think, that I can drink With him that wears a hood...
Стр. 50 - 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 the adulteries of art ; They strike mine eyes, but not my heart.
Стр. 34 - CHERRY-RIPE, ripe, ripe, I cry, Full and fair ones; come and buy. If so be you ask me where They do grow, I answer : There, Where my Julia's lips do smile ; There's the land, or cherry-isle, Whose plantations fully show All the year where cherries grow.
Стр. 73 - 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.