The Songs and Ballads of Cumberland: To which are Added Dialect and Other Poems ; with Biographical Sketches, Notes, and GlossarySidney Gilpin G. Routledge, 1866 - 560 страници |
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... thing can e'er I like But just what likes my Sally . I's sick , and know not what to do ; And nevermore may rally ! — What signify sec things a flea ? — O , send off - hand for Sally . IT'S WRANG INDEED NOW , JENNY . ( HORACE . ) It's ...
... thing can e'er I like But just what likes my Sally . I's sick , and know not what to do ; And nevermore may rally ! — What signify sec things a flea ? — O , send off - hand for Sally . IT'S WRANG INDEED NOW , JENNY . ( HORACE . ) It's ...
Страница 13
... thing . Henceforth bid jealousy be gone ; Thy dear , dear self is thine alone ; From fear of rivals thou art free : -O ! were I half so blest as thee , ALL FEMALE CHARMS , I OWN MY FAIR . All Relph of Sebergham 13 See how the Wine ...
... thing . Henceforth bid jealousy be gone ; Thy dear , dear self is thine alone ; From fear of rivals thou art free : -O ! were I half so blest as thee , ALL FEMALE CHARMS , I OWN MY FAIR . All Relph of Sebergham 13 See how the Wine ...
Страница 18
... things I said a - sleep ; Still shamefully left snafflen by mysell And still , still dogg'd wi ' the damn'd neame o ... thing o ' compliments I think they ca't : That meakes a clownish lad a clever spark , O hed I this ! this buik wad ...
... things I said a - sleep ; Still shamefully left snafflen by mysell And still , still dogg'd wi ' the damn'd neame o ... thing o ' compliments I think they ca't : That meakes a clownish lad a clever spark , O hed I this ! this buik wad ...
Страница 23
... things to bide . Fie , Roger , fie - a sairy lass to wrang , And let her all this trouble undergang ; What gars thee stay ? —indeed it's badly duin : Come , come thy ways - thou mud as weel come suin ; For come thou mun , aw mothers ...
... things to bide . Fie , Roger , fie - a sairy lass to wrang , And let her all this trouble undergang ; What gars thee stay ? —indeed it's badly duin : Come , come thy ways - thou mud as weel come suin ; For come thou mun , aw mothers ...
Страница 44
... thing of beauty and a joy forever . " We have spoken this in no mere spirit of apology . Miss Blamire needs no apologist . Her songs have already stood the test of time , which is after all the only real touchstone of vitality . Had ...
... thing of beauty and a joy forever . " We have spoken this in no mere spirit of apology . Miss Blamire needs no apologist . Her songs have already stood the test of time , which is after all the only real touchstone of vitality . Had ...
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Често срещани думи и фрази
amang anudder auld lang seyne baith ballads beath Blamire's bonny Carel Carlisle cou'd cried Cumberland dear deil Derry Dick duin e'en e'er ev'ry fadder fair feace feyne frae fwok gang geate Gilpin heame heart Hethersgill I'th Jemmy Jenny John Peel Jwohnie lads lasses lassie leet leyfe leyke luik luik'd luive maun meade Miss Blamire monie mudder mysel nae mair ne'er neame neet neist never niver nobbet nought o'er o'th onie owre peer reet roun Sadler's Sally Gray Scaleby sigh sing Skinburness song suin sweet tear tell teyme thee There's thing thou thou's thought thro Tom Linton tuik turn'd Twas twea varra wark warl weary weel weyfe whea Wheyle whum Wigton Willie Wully yence young
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Страница 449 - Oft I had heard of Lucy Gray: And, when I crossed the wild, I chanced to see at break of day . The solitary child. No mate, no comrade Lucy knew; She dwelt on a wide moor, — The sweetest thing that ever grew Beside a human door!
Страница 448 - My heart leaps up when I behold A rainbow in the sky: So was it when my life began ; So is it now I am a man ; So be it when I shall grow old, Or let me die! The child is father of the man; And I could wish my days to be Bound each to each by natural piety.
Страница 448 - Than years of toiling reason : Our minds shall drink at every pore The spirit of the season. Some silent laws our hearts will make, Which they shall long obey: We for the year to come may take Our temper from to-day. And from the blessed power that rolls About, below, above, We'll frame the measure of our souls : They shall be tuned to love. Then come, my Sister ! come, I pray, With speed put on your woodland dress ; And bring no book : for this one day We'll give to idleness.
Страница 451 - I HEARD a thousand blended notes, While in a grove I sat reclined, In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts Bring sad thoughts to the mind.
Страница 459 - THE COTTAGER TO HER INFANT. BY A FEMALE FRIEND. THE days are cold, the nights are long, The north-wind sings a doleful song ; Then hush again upon my breast ; All merry things are now at rest, Save thee, my pretty Love ! The kitten sleeps upon the hearth, The crickets long have ceased their mirth ; There's nothing stirring in the house Save one wee, hungry, nibbling mouse, Then why so busy thou ? Nay! start not at that sparkling light; 'Tis but the moon that shines so bright On the window-pane bedropped...
Страница 455 - No — man is dear to man ; the poorest poor Long for some moments in a weary life •' When they can know and feel that they have been, Themselves, the fathers and the dealers out Of some small blessings ; have been kind to such As needed kindness, for this single cause, That we have all of us one human heart.
Страница 477 - He has ta'en the table wi' his hand, He garr'd the red wine spring on hie — "Now Christ's curse on my head," he said, "But avenged of Lord Scroope I'll be!
Страница 481 - Then shoulder high with shout and cry We bore him down the ladder lang; At every stride Red Rowan made, I wot the Kinmont's aims played clang. 'O mony a time,
Страница 481 - We scarce had won the Staneshaw-bank, When a' the Carlisle bells were rung, And a thousand men on horse and foot Cam' wi' the keen Lord Scroope along. Buccleuch has turned to Eden Water, Even where it flowed frae bank to brim, And he has plunged in wi' a' his band, And safely swam them through the stream.
Страница 506 - The bridesmen flock'd round Lucy dead, And all the village w,ept. Confusion, shame, remorse, despair, At once his bosom swell : The damps of death bedew'd his brow, He shook, he groan'd, he fell. From the vain bride, ah, bride no more ! The varying crimson fled, "When, stretch'd before her rival's corse, She saw her husband dead.