Reliques of Ancient English Poetry: Consisting of Old Heroic Ballads, Songs, and Other Pieces of Our Earlier Poets; Together with Some Few of Later Date, Том 2

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H. Washbourne, 1846
 

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Страница 93 - At cards for kisses — Cupid paid ; He stakes his quiver, bow and arrows, His mother's doves, and team of sparrows ; Loses them too ; then down he throws The coral of his lip, the rose Growing on's cheek (but none knows how) ; With these, the crystal of his brow, And then the dimple of his chin : All these did my Campaspe win. At last he set her both his eyes, She won, and Cupid blind did rise. O Love ! has she done this to thee ? What shall, alas ! become of me...
Страница 182 - Twixt one another secretly : I mark their gloze, And it disclose To them whom they have wronged so : When I have done, I get me gone, And leave them scolding, ho, ho, ho ! When men do traps and engines...
Страница 156 - And both possessed one grave. No love between these two was lost, Each was to other kind ; In love they...
Страница 187 - An hundred of their merry pranks, By one that I could name, Are kept in store ; con twenty thanks To William for the same. To William Churne of...
Страница 205 - Over the mountains And over the waves, Under the fountains And under the graves ; Under floods that are deepest, Which Neptune obey ; Over rocks that are steepest Love will find out the way. Where there is no place For the glow-worm to lie ; Where there is no space For receipt of a fly ; Where the midge dares not venture Lest herself fast she lay ; If love come, he will enter And soon find out his way.
Страница 158 - 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 179 - When in one night, ere glimpse of morn, His shadowy flail hath threshed the corn That ten day-labourers could not end; Then lies him down, the lubber fiend, And, stretched 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 171 - SHALL I, wasting in despair, Die because a woman's fair? Or make pale my cheeks with care 'Cause another's rosy are? Be she fairer than the day, Or the flowery meads in May, If she be not so to me, What care I how fair she be?
Страница 184 - On tops of dewy grass So nimbly do we pass, The young and tender stalk Ne'er bends when we do walk ; Yet in the morning may be seen Where we the night before have been.
Страница 155 - 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.

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