The Shepherd's Week: In Six PastoralsB. Blackwell, 1924 - 64 sider |
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adown apron Blouzelind Boobyclod Bowzybeus Bumkinet BURLEIGH burthen aid Buxoma Cic❜ly Cloddipole clown Clumfilis Colin Clout CUDDY daifie Dirge dy'd eclogue edition Eftfoons erft ev'ry eyes fair feiz'd FERD fhall fhepherds filly fing firſt flain fome fong fonnets foon forrow ftood ftrains fuch fung fwains fweet graſs grave brother Grubbinol hard fo true haut-boy heel I three imprint lads and laffes Laft laſs laſt Line LOBBIN CLOUT loft louts Love for Love Lubberkin maiden Marian mark the ground o'er oaken pastoral pinners plain quid raiſe rofe ſaid sculp ſeen ſhall ſharp heel ſhe ſheep Shepherd's Week ſhould ſoft Sparabella ſpeed ſpell ſpread STRATFORD-UPON-AVON Sufan ſwain ſweet thee Theoc Theocritus theſe thou three times mark Tis hard fo Troy town true a damfel turn me thrice twas uſe verſe Virg wail'd ween welkin witleſs word fignifying ye laffes yonder ΙΟ
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Side 34 - Two hazel nuts I threw into the flame, And to each nut I gave a sweetheart's name ; This with the loudest bounce me sore amaz'd, That in a flame of brightest colour blaz'd. As blaz'd the nut, so may thy passion grow ; For 'twas thy nut that did so brightly glow.
Side 37 - With my sharp heel I three times mark the ground, And turn me thrice around, around, around.
Side 15 - If in the soil you guide the crooked share, Your early breakfast is my constant care. And when with even hand you strow the grain, I fright the thievish rooks from off the plain. In...
Side 55 - And kiss'd with smacking lip the snoring lout. For custom says, whoe'er this venture proves, For such a kiss demands a pair of gloves. By her example Dorcas bolder grows, And plays a tickling straw within his nose.
Side 48 - And of the Dead let none the Will revoke. Mother, quoth she, let not the Poultry need, And give the Goose wherewith to raise her Breed, Be these my Sister's...
Side 16 - When-e'er you mow'd I follow'd with the rake, And have full oft been sun-burnt for thy sake; When in the welkin gath'ring show'rs were seen, I lagg'd the last with Colin on the green; And...
Side 6 - The witless lamb may sport upon the plain, The frisking kid delight the gaping swain, The wanton calf may skip with many a bound...
Side 49 - O'er her now empty seat aloft were hung. With wicker rods we fenc'd her tomb around, To ward from man and beast the hallow'd ground, Lest her new grave the Parson's cattle raze, For both his horse and cow the church-yard graze. Now we trudg'd homeward to her mother's farm, To drink new cyder mull'd, with ginger warm. 150 For gaffer Tread-well told us by the by, Excessive sorrow is exceeding dry.
Side 47 - And shrilling Crickets in the Chimney cry'd; The boding Raven on her Cottage sate, And with hoarse Croaking warn'd us of her Fate; The Lambkin, which her wonted Tendance bred...