The Golden Treasury of the Best Songs and Lyrical Poems in the English LanguageFrancis Turner Palgrave Macmillan and Company, 1888 - 346 sider |
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Side 1
... sing , Cuckoo , jug - jug , pu - we , to - witta - woo ! The palm and may make country houses gay , Lambs frisk and play , the shepherds pipe all day , And we hear aye birds tune this merry lay , Cuckoo , jug - jug , pu - we , to ...
... sing , Cuckoo , jug - jug , pu - we , to - witta - woo ! The palm and may make country houses gay , Lambs frisk and play , the shepherds pipe all day , And we hear aye birds tune this merry lay , Cuckoo , jug - jug , pu - we , to ...
Side 2
... sing : Make an eternal spring ! Give life to this dark world which lieth dead ; Spread forth thy golden hair In larger locks than thou wast wont before , And emperor - like decore With diadem of pearl thy temples fair : Chase hence the ...
... sing : Make an eternal spring ! Give life to this dark world which lieth dead ; Spread forth thy golden hair In larger locks than thou wast wont before , And emperor - like decore With diadem of pearl thy temples fair : Chase hence the ...
Side 4
... sing madrigals . There will I make thee beds of roses And a thousand fragrant posies , A cap of flowers , and a kirtle Embroider'd all with leaves of myrtle . A gown made of the finest wool , Which from our pretty lambs we pull , Fair ...
... sing madrigals . There will I make thee beds of roses And a thousand fragrant posies , A cap of flowers , and a kirtle Embroider'd all with leaves of myrtle . A gown made of the finest wool , Which from our pretty lambs we pull , Fair ...
Side 6
... sing hey ding a ding : Sweet lovers love the Spring . Between the acres of the rye These pretty country folks would lie : This carol they began that hour , How that life was but a flower : And therefore take the present time With a hey ...
... sing hey ding a ding : Sweet lovers love the Spring . Between the acres of the rye These pretty country folks would lie : This carol they began that hour , How that life was but a flower : And therefore take the present time With a hey ...
Side 8
... sing , ' tis with so dull a cheer , That leaves look pale , dreading the winter's near . W. Shakespeare XII A ... sings hymns at heaven's gate ; For thy sweet love remember'd , such wealth brings That then I scorn to change my state with ...
... sing , ' tis with so dull a cheer , That leaves look pale , dreading the winter's near . W. Shakespeare XII A ... sings hymns at heaven's gate ; For thy sweet love remember'd , such wealth brings That then I scorn to change my state with ...
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Almindelige termer og sætninger
Arethuse beauty behold beneath birds blest bonnie bower breast breath bright Brignall brow cheek clouds County Guy dark dead dear death delight dost doth dream earth ELIZABETH OF BOHEMIA eyes F. T. PALGRAVE fair Fancy fear flowers frae FRANCIS TURNER PALGRAVE gentle glory Golden Treasury Gray green happy hast hath hear heard heart heaven hill Kirconnell kiss leaves light live look'd Lord Lord Byron love's Lycidas lyre LYRICAL Milton mind morn mountains Muse ne'er never night Nymph o'er P. B. Shelley pale passion Pindar pleasure poem Poetry poets round Rule Britannia seem'd shade Shakespeare shore sigh sing sleep smile soft song sorrow soul sound spirit Spring star stream sweet tears thee There's thine thou art thought tree Twas voice waly waly waves weep white-thorn wild winds wings Wordsworth Yarrow youth
Populære passager
Side 15 - Let me not to the marriage of true minds Admit impediments. Love is not love Which alters when it alteration finds, Or bends with the remover to remove: O, no ! it is an ever-fixed mark, That looks on tempests and is never shaken; It is the star to every wandering bark, Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Side 306 - Another race hath been, and other palms are won. Thanks to the human heart by which we live, Thanks to its tenderness, its joys, and fears ; To me the meanest flower that blows can give Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears.
Side 17 - Tu-who, a merry note, While greasy Joan doth keel the pot. When all aloud the wind doth blow And coughing drowns the parson's saw And birds sit brooding in the snow And Marian's nose looks red and raw, When roasted...
Side 304 - Thou little Child, yet glorious in the might Of heaven-born freedom on thy being's height, Why with such earnest pains dost thou provoke The years to bring the inevitable yoke, Thus blindly with thy blessedness at strife? Full soon thy Soul shall have her earthly freight, And custom lie upon thee with a weight, Heavy as frost, and deep almost as life!
Side 71 - 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.
Side 202 - Her home is on the deep. With thunders from her native oak She quells the floods below — As they roar on the shore, When the stormy winds do blow; When the battle rages loud and long, And the stormy winds do blow.
Side 8 - Desiring this man's art and that man's scope, With what I most enjoy contented least; Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising, Haply I think on thee...
Side 93 - Where the great Sun begins his state Robed in flames and amber light, The clouds in thousand liveries dight; While the ploughman, near at hand, Whistles o'er the furrow'd land, And the milkmaid singeth blithe, And the mower whets his scythe, And every shepherd tells his tale Under the hawthorn in the dale.
Side 205 - Stern Lawgiver ! yet thou dost wear The Godhead's most benignant grace ; Nor know we anything so fair As is the smile upon thy face : Flowers laugh before thee on their beds And fragrance in thy footing treads ; Thou dost preserve the stars from wrong; And the most ancient heavens, through Thee, are fresh and strong.
Side 257 - Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they? Think not of them, thou hast thy music too, While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day, And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue; Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn Among the river sallows, borne aloft Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies; And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly...