The Book of English Songs: From the Sixteenth to the Nineteenth CenturyCharles Mackay Office of the National illustrated library, 1851 - 312 sider |
Fra bogen
Resultater 1-5 af 38
Side iii
... readers , with whom particular songs may have become favourites from old association , may look in vain in this volume for the lyrics that have been impressed on their memory by accidental circumstances ; but they will.
... readers , with whom particular songs may have become favourites from old association , may look in vain in this volume for the lyrics that have been impressed on their memory by accidental circumstances ; but they will.
Side 24
... looks so lovely , That no man truly Such one can find . Her beauty so pure , It doth under lure My poor heart full sure In governance . Therefore now will I Unto her apply , And ever will cry For remembrance . Her fair eye piercing , My ...
... looks so lovely , That no man truly Such one can find . Her beauty so pure , It doth under lure My poor heart full sure In governance . Therefore now will I Unto her apply , And ever will cry For remembrance . Her fair eye piercing , My ...
Side 25
... look she said , and sigh'd , " Alas ! what aileth me ? To love and set my wealth so light , On him that loveth not me ; Alas the while ! " Was I not well void of all pain , When that nothing me griev'd ? And now with sorrows I must ...
... look she said , and sigh'd , " Alas ! what aileth me ? To love and set my wealth so light , On him that loveth not me ; Alas the while ! " Was I not well void of all pain , When that nothing me griev'd ? And now with sorrows I must ...
Side 32
... looks are murdering darts , Her songs bewitching charms . Like winter rose , and summer ice , Her joys are still untimely , Before her , hope - behind remorse , Fair first , in fine unseemly . Plough not the seas , sow not the sands ...
... looks are murdering darts , Her songs bewitching charms . Like winter rose , and summer ice , Her joys are still untimely , Before her , hope - behind remorse , Fair first , in fine unseemly . Plough not the seas , sow not the sands ...
Side 37
... look where is no light ; Till time too late we make them try , They study false astronomy . " John Dowland , " says a note in the Rev. Alexander Dyce's edition of the Poems of Shakspeare , " was a famous latinist . " In a sonnet often ...
... look where is no light ; Till time too late we make them try , They study false astronomy . " John Dowland , " says a note in the Rev. Alexander Dyce's edition of the Poems of Shakspeare , " was a famous latinist . " In a sonnet often ...
Indhold
44 | |
46 | |
51 | |
56 | |
60 | |
64 | |
66 | |
70 | |
71 | |
77 | |
78 | |
94 | |
95 | |
98 | |
101 | |
103 | |
110 | |
117 | |
207 | |
213 | |
219 | |
222 | |
235 | |
248 | |
252 | |
262 | |
264 | |
268 | |
276 | |
280 | |
283 | |
285 | |
292 | |
297 | |
305 | |
Andre udgaver - Se alle
Almindelige termer og sætninger
Abraham Newland Bacchus beauty blow born boys brave British Grenadiers CHARLES DIBDIN CHARLES MACKAY charms cheer Cherry ripe cold cuckoo death delight died doth drink Ellen Evelina England English eyes fair Falero fear fool glory Hark Harry Carey hath heart Heav'n his soul Heaven high trolollie hope jolly King kiss ladies land lass leather bottèl lero live Lord lov'd lovers maid merry mind morn ne'er never night o'er old cap passion pipe pleasure poetry poor praise R. B. SHERIDAN ROBERT AYTOUN round row row Rule Britannia sail sailors Shakspeare shepherds ship sigh sing smile soldier song sorrow Spanish Armada sport stanzas sung swain sweet Tally-ho tears tell thee There's thine THOMAS Thomas Campbell THOMAS CAREW thou Twas Vicar of Bray wind wine wish in Heav'n youth
Populære passager
Side 191 - The spirits of your fathers Shall start from every wave! For the deck it was their field of fame, And Ocean was their grave: Where Blake and mighty Nelson fell, Your manly hearts shall glow, As ye sweep through the deep, While the stormy winds do blow: While the battle rages loud and long, And the stormy winds do blow.
Side 35 - Sigh, no more, ladies, sigh no more, Men were deceivers ever ; One foot in sea, and one on shore ; To one thing constant never : Then sigh not so, But let them go, And be you blithe and bonny ; Converting all your sounds of woe Into Hey nonny, nonny.
Side 268 - 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 die, that she The common fate of all things rare May read in thee, How small a part of time they share, That are so wondrous sweet and fair.
Side 55 - 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. 1 Imprisoned or caged. Yet this inconstancy is such As you too shall adore; I could not love thee, dear, so much, Loved I not honor more.
Side 144 - Some men with swords may reap the field, And plant fresh laurels where they kill : But their strong nerves at last must yield ; They tame but one another still : Early or late They stoop to fate, And must give up their murmuring breath, When they, pale captives, creep to death. The garlands wither on your brow, Then boast no more your mighty deeds ; Upon Death's purple altar now See, where the victor-victim bleeds : Your heads must come To the cold tomb ; Only the actions of the just Smell sweet,...
Side 216 - Twas autumn, and sunshine arose on the way To the home of my fathers, that welcomed me back. I flew to the pleasant fields traversed so oft In life's morning march, when my bosom was young ; I heard my own mountain-goats bleating aloft, And knew the sweet strain that the corn-reapers sung.
Side 68 - When lovely woman stoops to folly, And finds too late that men betray ; What charm can soothe her melancholy, What art can wash her guilt away ? The only art her guilt to cover, To hide her shame from every eye, To give repentance to her lover, And wring his bosom — is to die.
Side 143 - WHY so pale and wan, fond lover? Prithee, why so pale? Will, when looking well can't move her, Looking ill prevail? Prithee, why so pale?
Side 43 - Drink to me only with thine eyes, And I will pledge with mine; Or leave a kiss but in the cup And I'll not look for wine. The thirst that from the soul doth rise Doth ask a drink divine; But might I of Jove's nectar sup, I would not change for thine.
Side 86 - And I will make thee beds of roses And a thousand fragrant posies, A cap of flowers, and a kirtle Embroidered all with leaves of myrtle.