Ancient ballads and songs; with notices, including original poetry. By T. Lyle1827 |
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Стр. 49
... hands have touch'd it ? Have mark'd but the fall of the snow , you Before the soil hath smutch'd it ? Have you felt the wool of the beaver , Or swan's down ever ? Or have smell'd of the bud o ' the briar ? Or the ' nard in the fire ? Or ...
... hands have touch'd it ? Have mark'd but the fall of the snow , you Before the soil hath smutch'd it ? Have you felt the wool of the beaver , Or swan's down ever ? Or have smell'd of the bud o ' the briar ? Or the ' nard in the fire ? Or ...
Стр. 52
... hand go cold ; But belly , God send thee good ale enough , Whether it be new or old . I love no roast , but a nut brown toast , And a crab laid on the fire ; A little bread shall serve my stead , For much I not desire , No frost or snow ...
... hand go cold ; But belly , God send thee good ale enough , Whether it be new or old . I love no roast , but a nut brown toast , And a crab laid on the fire ; A little bread shall serve my stead , For much I not desire , No frost or snow ...
Стр. 53
... hand side of this eccentric compiler's column for April . THE CHOICE . SHE that denies me , I would have ; Who craves me , I despise ; Venus hath power to rule mine heart , But not to please mine eyes : Temptations offer'd I still scorn ...
... hand side of this eccentric compiler's column for April . THE CHOICE . SHE that denies me , I would have ; Who craves me , I despise ; Venus hath power to rule mine heart , But not to please mine eyes : Temptations offer'd I still scorn ...
Стр. 55
... hand , or at least a main finger , in 220 plays , published betwixt 1596 and 1640 ; so say the learned editors of the " Old English Drama , " while Ellis in his " Specimens " reduces their number to 120. Of this great number of plays ...
... hand , or at least a main finger , in 220 plays , published betwixt 1596 and 1640 ; so say the learned editors of the " Old English Drama , " while Ellis in his " Specimens " reduces their number to 120. Of this great number of plays ...
Стр. 68
... hand from that of the Wooing Song , and now is by every one called a standard Scottish tune , when in reality it is an English one , as any amateur may satisfy himself , by running over the bars of the one after the other , in Song 22 ...
... hand from that of the Wooing Song , and now is by every one called a standard Scottish tune , when in reality it is an English one , as any amateur may satisfy himself , by running over the bars of the one after the other , in Song 22 ...
Часто встречающиеся слова и выражения
adieu alace Anne Anne Hathaway auld wife Ballad beauty beauty's Bessy Bell Billy boy birds blooming blush bonnie lassie BONNY DUNDEE born bosom bower breast breath bright broom cheek cold cuckoo Cupid darling dear delight disdain doth dreams Dunoon England's Helicon eyes fair fancy flower fond heart foregoing frae glen glow-worm good-morrow Gowrie grace green grief grove haste hath heaven Heigh-ho hope kiss lady lass Lauderdale live Lord Lord Delaware love's maid mair Melismata mind morn muse ne'er never NICHOLAS BRETON night o'er pain pale poet Poor auld maidens pretty Queen RICHARD LOVELACE rose round Rowallan ROWALLAN'S POEMS says Scotland sigh sing SIR WILLIAM MURE smile song Sonnets sorrow soul spring stanza stars summer sweet love tears thee thine THOMAS CAREW thou three ravens tree vale wanton weep wild wind Wind-Flower winter young
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Стр. 84 - 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. Yet this inconstancy is such As you too shall adore; I could not love thee, dear, so much, Loved I not honour more.
Стр. 80 - 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. 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...
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. 83 - 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. 31 - 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. 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. 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. 19 - There is a garden in her face, Where roses and white lilies grow; A heavenly paradise is that place, Wherein all pleasant fruits do flow. There cherries grow which none may buy Till 'Cherry-ripe
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.