Ancient ballads and songs; with notices, including original poetry. By T. Lyle1827 |
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Страница 5
... maid gay , Who laughs to see me sigh so sore , Heigh - ho ! chil love no more . Her loving looks , her beauty bright , Is such delight , that all in vain , I love to like , and lose my gain , For her that thanks me not therefore , Heigh ...
... maid gay , Who laughs to see me sigh so sore , Heigh - ho ! chil love no more . Her loving looks , her beauty bright , Is such delight , that all in vain , I love to like , and lose my gain , For her that thanks me not therefore , Heigh ...
Страница 26
... maids gave ear , Embracing gladly endless harms , Anon enthralled were . Thus women welcom'd woe , Disguis'd in name of love ; A jealous hell , a painted show , So shall they find that prove . Hey down a down , did Dian sing , Amongst ...
... maids gave ear , Embracing gladly endless harms , Anon enthralled were . Thus women welcom'd woe , Disguis'd in name of love ; A jealous hell , a painted show , So shall they find that prove . Hey down a down , did Dian sing , Amongst ...
Страница 32
... MAID'S SONG . GOOD - morrow to the day so fair , Good - morrow , Sir , to you ; Good - morrow to mine own torn hair , Bedabbled all with dew . 383323 HERRICK'S SONGS . Good - morrow to this primrose 32 HERRICK'S SONGS .
... MAID'S SONG . GOOD - morrow to the day so fair , Good - morrow , Sir , to you ; Good - morrow to mine own torn hair , Bedabbled all with dew . 383323 HERRICK'S SONGS . Good - morrow to this primrose 32 HERRICK'S SONGS .
Страница 33
... maid , That will with flowers the tomb bestrew my love is laid . Wherein Ah , woe is me , woe , woe is me , Alack and well - a - day ! For pity , Sir , find out that bee Which bore my love away . I'll seek him in your bonnet brave , I ...
... maid , That will with flowers the tomb bestrew my love is laid . Wherein Ah , woe is me , woe , woe is me , Alack and well - a - day ! For pity , Sir , find out that bee Which bore my love away . I'll seek him in your bonnet brave , I ...
Страница 61
... WHERE are you , fair maids , that have need of our trades ? I'll sell you a rare confection ; Will you have your faces spread , either with white or red ; Will you buy any fair complexion ? G My drugs are no dregs , for I have whites.
... WHERE are you , fair maids , that have need of our trades ? I'll sell you a rare confection ; Will you have your faces spread , either with white or red ; Will you buy any fair complexion ? G My drugs are no dregs , for I have whites.
Често срещани думи и фрази
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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Страница 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.
Страница 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...
Страница 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.
Страница 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.
Страница 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.
Страница 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.
Страница 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...
Страница 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.
Страница 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
Страница 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.