English Songs and BalladsThomas William Hodgson Crosland G. Richards, 1902 - 352 pages |
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Page viii
... Sleep , and with thy sweet deceiving , . 13 Dear is my little native vale , 193 Doubt thou the stars are fire , 86 Drink to me only with thine eyes , 93 Duncan Gray came here to woo , 188 Faintly as tolls the evening chime , Fair ...
... Sleep , and with thy sweet deceiving , . 13 Dear is my little native vale , 193 Doubt thou the stars are fire , 86 Drink to me only with thine eyes , 93 Duncan Gray came here to woo , 188 Faintly as tolls the evening chime , Fair ...
Page xi
... sleeps the crimson petal , now the white , 338 Oh , the sweet contentment , gone , · • Now the hungry lion roars , · Of all the girls that are so smart , Of a ' the airts the wind can blaw , Of Nelson and the North , · Oft I had heard ...
... sleeps the crimson petal , now the white , 338 Oh , the sweet contentment , gone , · • Now the hungry lion roars , · Of all the girls that are so smart , Of a ' the airts the wind can blaw , Of Nelson and the North , · Oft I had heard ...
Page xii
... sleeps , . 272 She stood breast high among the corn , 304 She walks in beauty like the night , 280 Sigh no more , ladies , sigh no more , 87 Sing his praises , that doth keep , 16 Some asked me where the rubies grew , 111 Some talk of ...
... sleeps , . 272 She stood breast high among the corn , 304 She walks in beauty like the night , 280 Sigh no more , ladies , sigh no more , 87 Sing his praises , that doth keep , 16 Some asked me where the rubies grew , 111 Some talk of ...
Page 12
... , and cocksparrow , You pretty elves , among yourselves Sing my fair Love good - morrow ! To give my Love good - morrow ! Sing , birds , in every furrow ! SLEEP BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER COME , Sleep , and with 12 SONGS AND BALLADS 12.
... , and cocksparrow , You pretty elves , among yourselves Sing my fair Love good - morrow ! To give my Love good - morrow ! Sing , birds , in every furrow ! SLEEP BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER COME , Sleep , and with 12 SONGS AND BALLADS 12.
Page 13
Thomas William Hodgson Crosland. SLEEP BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER COME , Sleep , and with thy sweet deceiving Lock me in delight awhile ; Let some pleasing dreams beguile All my fancies ; that from thence I may feel an influence All my powers ...
Thomas William Hodgson Crosland. SLEEP BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER COME , Sleep , and with thy sweet deceiving Lock me in delight awhile ; Let some pleasing dreams beguile All my fancies ; that from thence I may feel an influence All my powers ...
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Common terms and phrases
Agincourt Allan Water Allen-a-Dale auld auld lang syne beauty birds blood blow bonny Braes of Yarrow brave bride bright busk Camelot cheer dead dear death doth dream Earl eyes fair father fear flowers frae gallant gold gone grave green Greensleeves hand hath hear heard heart Hearts of oak heaven heir of Linne High trolollie Inchcape Rock John king kiss Lady of Shalott land lassie light live looked Lord loud luve maid Mariner merry moon morning mother Nanie ne'er never night noble Nut-brown Maid o'er Oriana pale poor pray pretty Bessee quoth rose round sails ship sigh sing Sir Patrick Spens slain sleep song sorrow soul spake stood stormy sweet tears tell thee There's thine thou thro Twas unto Vicar of Bray waves weary weep wife wild wind wood wooing o't young
Popular passages
Page 214 - It ceased; yet still the sails made on A pleasant noise till noon, A noise like of a hidden brook In the leafy month of June, That to the sleeping woods all night Singeth a quiet tune.
Page 206 - Nor any drop to drink. The very deep did rot: O Christ! That ever this should be! Yea, slimy things did crawl with legs Upon the slimy sea.
Page 331 - The splendor falls on castle walls And snowy summits old in story : The long light shakes across the lakes, And the •wild cataract leaps in glory. Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying, Blow, bugle ; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying.
Page 176 - TIGER! Tiger! burning bright In the forests of the night, What immortal hand or eye Could frame thy fearful symmetry? In what distant deeps or skies Burnt the fire of thine eyes? On what wings dare he aspire? What the hand dare seize the fire? And what shoulder, and what art, Could twist the sinews of thy heart? And when thy heart began to beat, What dread hand? and what dread feet?
Page 245 - Twere better by far, To have matched our fair cousin with young Lochinvar." One touch to her hand, and one word in her ear, When they reached the hall-door, and the charger stood near: So light to the croupe the fair lady he swung, So light to the saddle before her he sprung! "She is won! we are gone! over bank, bush, and scaur; They'll have fleet steeds that follow,
Page 211 - Oh sleep! it is a gentle thing, Beloved from pole to pole! To Mary Queen the praise be given! She sent the gentle sleep from Heaven, That slid into my soul.
Page 245 - mong Graemes of the Netherby clan ; Forsters, Fenwicks, and Musgraves, they rode and they ran : There was racing and chasing on Cannobie Lee, But the lost bride of Netherby ne'er did they see. So daring in love, and so dauntless in war, Have ye e'er heard of gallant like young Lochinvar?
Page 204 - Was tyrannous and strong: He struck with his o'ertaking wings, And chased us south along. With sloping masts and dipping prow, As who pursued with yell and blow Still treads the shadow of his foe, And forward bends his head, The ship drove fast, loud roared the blast, And southward aye we fled. And now there came both mist and snow, And it grew wondrous cold; And ice, mast-high, came floating by, As green as emerald...
Page 332 - Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying. O, hark, O, hear! how thin and clear, And thinner, clearer, farther going! O, sweet and far from cliff and scar The horns of Elfland faintly blowing! Blow, let us hear the purple glens replying, Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying. O love, they die in yon rich sky, They faint on hill or field or river; Our echoes roll from soul to soul, And grow for ever and for ever. Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying, And answer, echoes,...
Page 283 - I arise from dreams of thee In the first sweet sleep of night When the winds are breathing low, And the stars are shining bright...