Reliques of ancient English poetry, by T. Percy. Repr. entire from the author's last ed. With memoir and critical dissertation, by G. Gilfillan, Том 3

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Страница 161 - When in one night, ere glimpse of morn, His shadowy flail hath thresh'd the corn, That ten day-labourers could not end ; Then lies him down the lubber fiend, And, stretch'd out all the chimney's length, Basks at the fire his hairy strength ; And crop-full out of doors he flings, Ere the first cock his matin rings.
Страница 169 - Their dances were procession. But now, alas ! they all are dead, Or gone beyond the seas, Or farther for religion fled, Or else they take their ease.
Страница 168 - Or Ciss to milking rose, Then merrily went their tabor, And nimbly went their toes. Witness those rings and roundelays Of theirs which yet remain, Were footed in Queen Mary's days On many a grassy plain.
Страница i - Cowley : so, on the contrary, an ordinary song or ballad, that is the delight of the common people, cannot fail to please all such readers as are not unqualified for the entertainment by their affectation or ignorance ; and the reason is plain, because the same paintings of nature which recommend it to the most ordinary reader, will appear beautiful to the most refined.
Страница 267 - So shall the fairest face appear When youth and years are flown; Such is the robe that kings must wear When death has reft their crown.
Страница 112 - Love wont to gae! 1 leant my back unto an aik, I thought it was a trusty tree; But first it bow'd, and syne it brak, Sae my true Love did lichtly me. O waly waly, but love be bonny A little time while it is new; But when 'tis auld, it waxeth cauld And fades awa
Страница 104 - One penny, one penny, kind sir, she sayd, Will ease me of much paine. Before I give you one penny, sweet-heart, Praye tell me where you were borne. At Islington, kind sir, sayd shee, Where I have had many a scorne.
Страница 168 - In undermcles and in morweninges, And sayth his Matines and his holy thinges, As he goth in his limitatioun. Women may now go safely up and doun, In every bush, and under every tree, Ther is non other incubus but he, And he ne will don hem no dishonour.
Страница 136 - The parents being dead and gone, The children home he takes, And brings them straight unto his house Where much of them he makes. He had not kept these pretty babes A twelvemonth and a day, But, for their wealth, he did devise To make them both away.
Страница 52 - And wish well to thy soule will I So long as I have life, So will I not for thee Barnard Although I am thy wedded wife.

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