The Book of English Songs: From the Sixteenth to the Nineteenth CenturyCharles Mackay Office of the National illustrated library, 1851 - Всего страниц: 312 |
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Стр. 21
... o'er my heart , 66 I , a slave in thy dominions , Nature must give way to art . Mild Arcadians ever blooming , Nightly nodding o'er your flocks , See my weary days consuming All beneath yon flowery rocks . Melancholy smooth Meander ...
... o'er my heart , 66 I , a slave in thy dominions , Nature must give way to art . Mild Arcadians ever blooming , Nightly nodding o'er your flocks , See my weary days consuming All beneath yon flowery rocks . Melancholy smooth Meander ...
Стр. 49
... O'er her I'd cast my gown ; No cold my love should feel , Whate'er the heavens could do , But now , alas ! she's left me , Falero , lero , loo . Like doves we would be billing , And clip and kiss so fast , Yet she would be unwilling ...
... O'er her I'd cast my gown ; No cold my love should feel , Whate'er the heavens could do , But now , alas ! she's left me , Falero , lero , loo . Like doves we would be billing , And clip and kiss so fast , Yet she would be unwilling ...
Стр. 64
... o'er , I cannot love thee less or more . UNHAPPY LOVE . From " The Hive . " I SEE she flies me everywhere , Her eyes her scorn discover , But what's her scorn , or my despair , Since ' tis my fate to love her ? Were she but kind whom I ...
... o'er , I cannot love thee less or more . UNHAPPY LOVE . From " The Hive . " I SEE she flies me everywhere , Her eyes her scorn discover , But what's her scorn , or my despair , Since ' tis my fate to love her ? Were she but kind whom I ...
Стр. 66
... o'er the brow , And rapture thro ' the soul . Their power but faintly to express All language must despair ; But go behold Aspasia's face , And read it perfect there . O NANCY , WILT THOU GO WITH ME ? THOMAS PERCY , D.D. , Bishop of ...
... o'er the brow , And rapture thro ' the soul . Their power but faintly to express All language must despair ; But go behold Aspasia's face , And read it perfect there . O NANCY , WILT THOU GO WITH ME ? THOMAS PERCY , D.D. , Bishop of ...
Стр. 67
... o'er his breathless clay , Strew flowers , and drop the tender tear , Nor then regret those scenes so gay , Where thou wert fairest of the fair ? 9 Robert Burns affirmed this song to be the most beautiful composition of its kina in the ...
... o'er his breathless clay , Strew flowers , and drop the tender tear , Nor then regret those scenes so gay , Where thou wert fairest of the fair ? 9 Robert Burns affirmed this song to be the most beautiful composition of its kina in the ...
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The Book of English Songs: From the Sixteenth to the Nineteenth Century Charles Mackay Полный просмотр - 1851 |
Часто встречающиеся слова и выражения
Abraham Newland Bacchus beauty blow born boys brave British Grenadiers CHARLES DIBDIN CHARLES MACKAY charms cheer Cherry ripe cold cuckoo death delight died doth drink Ellen Evelina England English eyes fair Falero fear fool glory Hark Harry Carey hath heart Heav'n his soul Heaven high trolollie hope jolly King kiss ladies land lass leather bottèl lero live Lord lov'd lovers maid merry mind morn ne'er never night o'er old cap passion pipe pleasure poetry poor praise R. B. SHERIDAN ROBERT AYTOUN round row row Rule Britannia sail sailors Shakspeare shepherds ship sigh sing smile soldier song sorrow Spanish Armada sport stanzas sung swain sweet Tally-ho tears tell thee There's thine THOMAS Thomas Campbell THOMAS CAREW thou Twas Vicar of Bray wind wine wish in Heav'n youth
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Стр. 191 - The spirits of your fathers Shall start from every wave! For the deck it was their field of fame, And Ocean was their grave: Where Blake and mighty Nelson fell, Your manly hearts shall glow, As ye sweep through the deep, While the stormy winds do blow: While the battle rages loud and long, And the stormy winds do blow.
Стр. 35 - Sigh, no more, ladies, sigh no more, Men were deceivers ever ; One foot in sea, and one on shore ; To one thing constant never : Then sigh not so, But let them go, And be you blithe and bonny ; Converting all your sounds of woe Into Hey nonny, nonny.
Стр. 268 - Small is the worth Of beauty from the light retired; Bid her come forth, Suffer herself to be desired, And not blush so to be admired. Then die, that she The common fate of all things rare May read in thee, How small a part of time they share, That are so wondrous sweet and fair.
Стр. 55 - Going to the Wars 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. 1 Imprisoned or caged. Yet this inconstancy is such As you too shall adore; I could not love thee, dear, so much, Loved I not honor more.
Стр. 144 - Some men with swords may reap the field, And plant fresh laurels where they kill : But their strong nerves at last must yield ; They tame but one another still : Early or late They stoop to fate, And must give up their murmuring breath, When they, pale captives, creep to death. The garlands wither on your brow, Then boast no more your mighty deeds ; Upon Death's purple altar now See, where the victor-victim bleeds : Your heads must come To the cold tomb ; Only the actions of the just Smell sweet,...
Стр. 216 - Twas autumn, and sunshine arose on the way To the home of my fathers, that welcomed me back. I flew to the pleasant fields traversed so oft In life's morning march, when my bosom was young ; I heard my own mountain-goats bleating aloft, And knew the sweet strain that the corn-reapers sung.
Стр. 68 - When lovely woman stoops to folly, And finds too late that men betray ; What charm can soothe her melancholy, What art can wash her guilt away ? The only art her guilt to cover, To hide her shame from every eye, To give repentance to her lover, And wring his bosom — is to die.
Стр. 143 - 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. 43 - Drink to me only with thine eyes, And I will pledge with mine; Or leave a kiss but in the cup And I'll not look for wine. The thirst that from the soul doth rise Doth ask a drink divine; But might I of Jove's nectar sup, I would not change for thine.
Стр. 86 - And I will make thee beds of roses And a thousand fragrant posies, A cap of flowers, and a kirtle Embroidered all with leaves of myrtle.