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, المجلد 3F.C. and J. Rivington, 1812 |
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الصفحة 39
... love And wivehood true to all that did it beare ; But whosoever contrarie doth prove , Might not the same about her middle weare , But it would loose or else asunder teare . So it happened to the false Florimel , st . 16 , when Being ...
... love And wivehood true to all that did it beare ; But whosoever contrarie doth prove , Might not the same about her middle weare , But it would loose or else asunder teare . So it happened to the false Florimel , st . 16 , when Being ...
الصفحة 72
... true and faithful unto deathe : And , oh ! to rayse yee up againe , How ... love and charitìe ; Remember what the vision spake , Nor meete your foe , if ... love in helping mee ! 100 He He put his speare into his reste , And to 72 KING ...
... true and faithful unto deathe : And , oh ! to rayse yee up againe , How ... love and charitìe ; Remember what the vision spake , Nor meete your foe , if ... love in helping mee ! 100 He He put his speare into his reste , And to 72 KING ...
الصفحة 87
... true of promise , And rose and let him inn . Saies , whether have you left with me 70 Your bracelett or your glove ? Or are you returned backe againe To know more of my love ? Glasgèrion swore a full great othe , By oake , and ashe ...
... true of promise , And rose and let him inn . Saies , whether have you left with me 70 Your bracelett or your glove ? Or are you returned backe againe To know more of my love ? Glasgèrion swore a full great othe , By oake , and ashe ...
الصفحة 93
... true love deade . Hee cutt the pappes beside her brest , And did her body spille ; 110 He cutt the eares beside her heade , And bade her love her fille . He He called then up his litle foot - page , OLD ROBIN OF PORTINGALE . 93.
... true love deade . Hee cutt the pappes beside her brest , And did her body spille ; 110 He cutt the eares beside her heade , And bade her love her fille . He He called then up his litle foot - page , OLD ROBIN OF PORTINGALE . 93.
الصفحة 127
... love built me a bower , Bedeck'd with many a fragrant flower ; A braver bower you ne'er did see Then my true - love did build for mee . And there I livde a ladye gay , Till fortune wrought our loves decay ; For there came foes so fierce ...
... love built me a bower , Bedeck'd with many a fragrant flower ; A braver bower you ne'er did see Then my true - love did build for mee . And there I livde a ladye gay , Till fortune wrought our loves decay ; For there came foes so fierce ...
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طبعات أخرى - عرض جميع المقتطفات
عبارات ومصطلحات مألوفة
ancient awaye ballad Barbara Allen Bevis black-letter bower brest bride bright castle Childe Waters Chivalry clubb Cotton Library dame daughter daye deare death distichs doth dragon Editor's folio Ellen eyes fair Annet Fairies father fell foot-page France French gentle George Gill Morice gold grone Guenever gyant hand hart hast hath head heart Honi soit intitled King Arthur kisse knight lady ladye land Library litle little Musgrave lord Barnard lord Thomas maid mantle manye Margret merry miller Mordred never noble old Romance Pepys Collection poem Poetry praye prince printed copy queene quoth quoth hee sayd sayes shee shew shold sir Gawaine Sir Kay Sir Lybius song sonne sore stanzas steede story sweet William sword tale teares tell thee thou true love unkle unto Whan wife WITCH wold zour
مقاطع مشهورة
الصفحة 254 - 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.
الصفحة 219 - 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 th...
الصفحة 126 - 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...
الصفحة 393 - 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.
الصفحة 302 - HE that loves a rosy Cheek, Or a coral Lip admires ; Or from star-like Eyes doth seek Fuel to maintain his fires : As old Time makes these decay, So his flames must waste away ! But a smooth and steadfast Mind, Gentle Thoughts, and calm Desires, Hearts with equal love combined, Kindle never-dying fires ! Where these are not ; I despise Lovely Cheeks ! or Lips ! or Eyes...
الصفحة 337 - 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.
الصفحة 243 - Think what with them they would do That without them dare to woo ; And unless that mind I see, What care I how great she be ? Great, or good, or kind, or fair, I will ne'er the more despair: If she love me, this believe, I will die ere she shall grieve : If she slight me when I woo, I can scorn and let her go ; For if she be not for me, What care I for whom she be ? George Wither.
الصفحة 265 - Mary's days On many a grassy plain. But since of late Elizabeth, And, later, James came in, They never danced on any heath, As when the time hath bin.
الصفحة 126 - ... 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? THE SONGS OF BIRDS What bird so sings, yet so does wail? O 'tis the...