Lyrics from the Old Song BooksEdmondstoune Duncan G. Routledge & Sons, Limited, 1927 - Всего страниц: 611 |
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Стр. 2
... poor soul sat sighing by a sycamore tree , Sing willow , willow , willow ! With his hand in his bosom , and his head upon his knee : O willow , willow , willow , willow , shall be my garland : Sing all a green willow , willow , willow ...
... poor soul sat sighing by a sycamore tree , Sing willow , willow , willow ! With his hand in his bosom , and his head upon his knee : O willow , willow , willow , willow , shall be my garland : Sing all a green willow , willow , willow ...
Стр. 10
... make Your Grace merry , You think I'm the Abbot of Canterbury ; But I'm his poor shepherd , as plain you may see , That am come to beg pardon for him and for me . ' The king , he laughed , and swore by the IO 1 ANONYMOUS.
... make Your Grace merry , You think I'm the Abbot of Canterbury ; But I'm his poor shepherd , as plain you may see , That am come to beg pardon for him and for me . ' The king , he laughed , and swore by the IO 1 ANONYMOUS.
Стр. 19
... poor mariners , " No. 283 ; Min- strelsy of England , I , 266 . 19 . Ο Song of Agincourt Deo Gratias , Anglia , redde pro Victoria . UR King went forth to Normandy , With grace and might of chivalry : There God for him wrought ...
... poor mariners , " No. 283 ; Min- strelsy of England , I , 266 . 19 . Ο Song of Agincourt Deo Gratias , Anglia , redde pro Victoria . UR King went forth to Normandy , With grace and might of chivalry : There God for him wrought ...
Стр. 35
... poor man ? ' The night was cauld , the carle was wat , And down ayont the ingle he sat ; My daughter's shouthers he ' gan to clap , And loudly ranted and sang . O wow ! ' quo ' he , ' were I as free As first when I saw this countrie ...
... poor man ? ' The night was cauld , the carle was wat , And down ayont the ingle he sat ; My daughter's shouthers he ' gan to clap , And loudly ranted and sang . O wow ! ' quo ' he , ' were I as free As first when I saw this countrie ...
Стр. 36
... poor man . She gaed to the bed where the beggar lay ; The strae was cauld — he was away ; She clapp'd her hands , cried , ' Dulefu ' day ! For some o ' our gear will be gane . ' 6 Some ran to coffer , and some to kist , But naught was ...
... poor man . She gaed to the bed where the beggar lay ; The strae was cauld — he was away ; She clapp'd her hands , cried , ' Dulefu ' day ! For some o ' our gear will be gane . ' 6 Some ran to coffer , and some to kist , But naught was ...
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Augener Ayres and Dialogues ballad beauty birds blow Boosey brave breast breath bright British Museum Charles Stanford cold dance dear death delight Dent derry doth dream drink Duncan England's Helicon English Melodies eyes fair fear fire flowers grace Granville Bantock green grief Hamish MacCunn Hark hast hath heart heaven Henry Henry Bishop Henry Lawes Henry Purcell honour jolly King kiss lady lanctre lass light live love thee Love's lovers madrigal merry Minstrelsy of England morning ne'er never night Novello nymph o'er Orpheus Britannicus pain Part-Song Pelham Humfrey Pills to purge purge Melancholy reprinted ride Ritson's English Songs Saint George set by Sir Set to music shepherd sigh sing Sir Hubert Parry sleep smile sorrow soul sound sung sweet taleo tears tell There's thine thou art true unto verse voice weep wind wine
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Стр. 166 - It is not growing like a tree In bulk, doth make Man better be ; Or standing long an oak, three hundred year, To fall a log at last, dry, bald, and sere : A lily of a day Is fairer far in May, Although it fall and die that night — It was the plant and flower of Light. In small proportions we just beauties see ; And in short measures life may perfect be.
Стр. 136 - With a bare bodkin ? who would fardels bear, To grunt and sweat under a weary life ; But that the dread of something after death, — The undiscovered country, from whose bourn No traveller returns, — puzzles the will ; And makes us rather bear those ills we have, Than fly to others that we know not of ? Thus conscience does make cowards of us all...
Стр. 494 - NIGHTINGALE My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk, Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk: "Tis not through envy of thy happy lot, But being too happy in thine happiness, — That thou, light-winged Dryad of the trees, In some melodious plot Of beechen green, and shadows numberless, Singest of summer in full-throated ease.
Стр. 253 - 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. Tell her that's young And shuns to have her graces spied, That hadst thou sprung In deserts, where no men abide, Thou must have uncommended died.
Стр. 136 - The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely. The pangs of despised love, the law's delay. The insolence of office and the spurns That patient merit of the unworthy takes. When he himself might his quietus make With a bare bodkin?
Стр. 128 - Who is Silvia ? what is she, That all our swains commend her ? Holy, fair, and wise is she, The heaven such grace did lend her, That she might admired
Стр. 136 - tis a consummation Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep; To sleep: perchance to dream; ay, there's the rub; For in that sleep of death what dreams may come When we have shuffled off this mortal coil...
Стр. 505 - I remember, I remember I REMEMBER, I remember The house where I was born, The little window where the sun Came peeping in at morn ; He never came a wink too soon, Nor brought too long a day ; But now I often wish the night Had borne my breath away.
Стр. 115 - Hark, hark! the lark at heaven's gate sings, And Phoebus 'gins arise, His steeds to water at those springs On chaliced flowers that lies; And winking Mary-buds begin To ope their golden eyes: With every thing that pretty is, My lady sweet, arise: Arise, arise.
Стр. 525 - And this maiden she lived with no other thought Than to love and be loved by me. / was a child and she was a child, In this kingdom by the sea, But we loved with a love that was more than love — I and my ANNABEL LEE — .With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven Coveted her and me. And this was the reason that, long ago, In this kingdom by the sea...