Essays on Song-writing: With a Collection of Such English Songs as are Most Eminent for Poetical Merit |
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Страница 42
Now Christ thee fave , thou reverend friar , I pray thee tell to me , If ever at yon
holy shrine My true love thou didst fee . And how should I know your true love
From many another one ? O by his cockle hat and staff , And by his sandal shoon
.
Now Christ thee fave , thou reverend friar , I pray thee tell to me , If ever at yon
holy shrine My true love thou didst fee . And how should I know your true love
From many another one ? O by his cockle hat and staff , And by his sandal shoon
.
Страница 44
O say not so , thou holy friar ; I pray thee , say not so : For since my true love died
for me , ' Tis meet my tears should flow , And will he ne'er come again ? Will he
ne'er come again ? Ah ! no , he is dead and laid in his grave , For ever to remain .
O say not so , thou holy friar ; I pray thee , say not so : For since my true love died
for me , ' Tis meet my tears should flow , And will he ne'er come again ? Will he
ne'er come again ? Ah ! no , he is dead and laid in his grave , For ever to remain .
Страница 45
Now say not so , thou holy friar , I pray thee fay not fo ; My love he had the truest
heart : O he was ever true ! And art thou dead , thou much - lov'd youth , And didst
thou die for me ? Then farewel home ; for , ever - more A pilgrim I will be .
Now say not so , thou holy friar , I pray thee fay not fo ; My love he had the truest
heart : O he was ever true ! And art thou dead , thou much - lov'd youth , And didst
thou die for me ? Then farewel home ; for , ever - more A pilgrim I will be .
Страница 46
Yet stay , fair lady , turn again , And dry those pearly tears ; For fee beneath this
gown of gray Thy own true - love appears . Here forc'd by grief , and hopeless
love These holy weeds I fought : And here amid these lonely walls To end my
days I ...
Yet stay , fair lady , turn again , And dry those pearly tears ; For fee beneath this
gown of gray Thy own true - love appears . Here forc'd by grief , and hopeless
love These holy weeds I fought : And here amid these lonely walls To end my
days I ...
Страница 55
No , never from this hour to part , We'll live and love so true ; The figh that rends
thy constant heart , Shall break thy Edwin's too . GOLDSMITH . F Leinster fam'd
for maidens fair , Bright Lucy was the grace ; Nor e'er did Liffy's limpid stream ...
No , never from this hour to part , We'll live and love so true ; The figh that rends
thy constant heart , Shall break thy Edwin's too . GOLDSMITH . F Leinster fam'd
for maidens fair , Bright Lucy was the grace ; Nor e'er did Liffy's limpid stream ...
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appear arms beauty breaſt bright Celia charms cheek cruel dead dear delight deſpair epigram eyes face fair fall fancy fate fear feel fighs firſt fond gentle give grace hand happy head hear heart heaven hope hour idea kind language laſt late leave lips live looks loſe lover maid meet mind morning moſt move muſic muſt nature ne'er never nymph o'er object once pain paſſion PHYLLIS pieces pity plain pleaſing pleaſure poetical poetry poets pride prove ſay ſee ſhade ſhall ſhe ſhepherd ſhould ſmile ſoft ſome ſong ſoul ſpeak ſtill ſubject ſuch ſwain ſweet taſte tears tell tender thee theſe thine thoſe thou thought thro true turn Twas vain vows weep whoſe wind wiſh young youth
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Страница 171 - OR ever, Fortune, wilt thou prove An unrelenting foe to love, And when we meet a mutual heart, Come in between, and bid us part : Bid us sigh on from day to day, And wish, and wish the soul away; Till youth and genial years are flown, And all the life of life...
Страница 50 - The crackling faggot flies. But nothing could a charm impart To soothe the stranger's woe; For grief was heavy at his heart, And tears began to flow. His rising cares the Hermit spied, With answering care opprest : " And whence, unhappy youth," he cried, " The sorrows of thy breast ? " From better habitations spurn'd, Reluctant dost thou rove?
Страница 93 - Not a pine in my grove is there seen, But with tendrils of woodbine is bound; Not a beech's more beautiful green But a sweet-brier entwines it around. Not my fields, in the prime of the year, More charms than my cattle unfold; Not a brook that is limpid and clear, But it glitters with fishes of gold.
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Страница 57 - Ah, Colin ! give not her thy vows, Vows due to me alone : Nor thou, fond maid, receive his kiss, Nor think him all thy own.