English Songs and BalladsThomas William Hodgson Crosland G. Richards, 1902 - 352 páginas |
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Página ix
... 290 328 104 · 224 346 2 222 315 8 In Wakefield there lives a jolly pinder , 37 sprang to the stirrup , and Joris , and he , 343 Is there for honest poverty , 178 I tell thee , Dick , where I have been INDEX OF FIRST LINES ix.
... 290 328 104 · 224 346 2 222 315 8 In Wakefield there lives a jolly pinder , 37 sprang to the stirrup , and Joris , and he , 343 Is there for honest poverty , 178 I tell thee , Dick , where I have been INDEX OF FIRST LINES ix.
Página x
Thomas William Hodgson Crosland. I tell thee , Dick , where I have been , It is an ancient Mariner , PAGE 118 • 202 It ... tell , 183 My heart is wasted with my woe , . 320 • My mind to me a kingdom is , 10 Napoleon's banners at Boulogne ...
Thomas William Hodgson Crosland. I tell thee , Dick , where I have been , It is an ancient Mariner , PAGE 118 • 202 It ... tell , 183 My heart is wasted with my woe , . 320 • My mind to me a kingdom is , 10 Napoleon's banners at Boulogne ...
Página xii
... Tell me not , sweet , I am unkind , 318 125 Tell me , where is fancy bred , The Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold , 91 277 The boy stood on the burning deck , The breaking waves dashed high , The bride cam ' out o ' the byre ...
... Tell me not , sweet , I am unkind , 318 125 Tell me , where is fancy bred , The Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold , 91 277 The boy stood on the burning deck , The breaking waves dashed high , The bride cam ' out o ' the byre ...
Página 5
... tell how true thou art , Blame not my Lute ! Blame but thyself that hast misdone , And well deserved to have blame ; Change thou thy way , so evil begone , And then my Lute shall sound that same ; But if till then my fingers play , By ...
... tell how true thou art , Blame not my Lute ! Blame but thyself that hast misdone , And well deserved to have blame ; Change thou thy way , so evil begone , And then my Lute shall sound that same ; But if till then my fingers play , By ...
Página 11
... tell her through your chirping bills , As you by me are bidden , To her is only known my love , Which from the world is hidden . Go , pretty birds , and tell her so , See that your notes strain not too low , For still methinks I see her ...
... tell her through your chirping bills , As you by me are bidden , To her is only known my love , Which from the world is hidden . Go , pretty birds , and tell her so , See that your notes strain not too low , For still methinks I see her ...
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Términos y frases comunes
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
Pasajes populares
Página 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.
Página 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.
Página 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.
Página 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?
Página 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,
Página 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.
Página 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?
Página 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...
Página 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,...
Página 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...