Preface. A historical essay on the origin and progress of national song. Love-songs

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J. Johnson, 1783

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Página 20 - Go, lovely rose ! Tell her that wastes her time and me, That now she knows, When I resemble her to thee, How sweet and fair she seems to be. Tell her that's young, And shuns to have her graces spied. That hadst thou sprung In deserts where no men abide, Thou must have uncommended died. 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...
Página 211 - The cord slides swiftly through his glowing hands, And, quick as lightning, on the deck he stands. So the sweet lark, high poised in air, Shuts close his pinions to his breast, If chance his mate's shrill call he hear, And drops at once into her nest. The noblest captain...
Página 55 - I have found out a gift for my fair; I have found where the wood-pigeons breed; But let me that plunder forbear, She will say 'twas a barbarous deed...
Página 225 - 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 lined slippers for the cold, With buckles of the purest gold.
Página 208 - OF all the girls that are so smart There's none like pretty Sally; She is the darling of my heart, And she lives in our alley. There is no lady in the land Is half so sweet as Sally; She is the darling of my heart, And she lives in our alley.
Página 166 - 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.
Página 96 - Be conceal'd from the day, Set a thousand guards upon her, Love will find out the way. Some think to lose him...
Página 60 - And while a false nymph was his theme, A willow supported his head. The wind, that blew over the plain, To his sighs with a sigh did reply : And the brook, in return to his pain, Ran mournfully murmuring by.
Página 226 - Nymph's Reply to the Shepherd If all the world and love were young, And truth in every shepherd's tongue, These pretty pleasures might me move To live with thee and be thy love. But time drives flocks from field to fold, When rivers rage and rocks grow cold, And Philomel becometh dumb, The rest complains of cares to come.
Página 59 - Alas ! from the day that we met, What hope of an end to my woes? When I cannot endure to forget The glance that undid my repose. Yet time may diminish the pain: The flower, and the shrub, and the tree, Which I rear'd for her pleasure in vain, In time may have comfort for me.

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