The Merrie Days of England: Sketches of the Olden TimeW. Kent & Company, 1859 - 160 páginas |
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Página 2
... never - dying tone Amidst the tombs . A hue of ages gone Seem'd , from that ivied porch , that solemn gleam , Of tower and cross , pale - quivering on the stream , O'er all th ' ancestral woodlands to be thrown- And something yet more ...
... never - dying tone Amidst the tombs . A hue of ages gone Seem'd , from that ivied porch , that solemn gleam , Of tower and cross , pale - quivering on the stream , O'er all th ' ancestral woodlands to be thrown- And something yet more ...
Página 8
... never man was trewe ; He sayes none was false to you . He sayed he had lovde her longe : She sayes love should have no wronge . Corydon would kisse her then : She sayes maids must kisse no men , Tyll they doe for good and all . When she ...
... never man was trewe ; He sayes none was false to you . He sayed he had lovde her longe : She sayes love should have no wronge . Corydon would kisse her then : She sayes maids must kisse no men , Tyll they doe for good and all . When she ...
Página 15
... never be old , there a young shepherdess knitting , and withal finging , and it seemed that her voice comforted her hands to work , and her hands kept time to her voice - music . " Pope , too , has told of the happy fecurity of paftoral ...
... never be old , there a young shepherdess knitting , and withal finging , and it seemed that her voice comforted her hands to work , and her hands kept time to her voice - music . " Pope , too , has told of the happy fecurity of paftoral ...
Página 16
... never found , Save what the ploughshare gives the ground . England's greatest dramatist makes the unfortunate Henry thus figh , on the hard - fought field of Towton , for the happiness of a fhepherd's life : - -Methinks it were a happy ...
... never found , Save what the ploughshare gives the ground . England's greatest dramatist makes the unfortunate Henry thus figh , on the hard - fought field of Towton , for the happiness of a fhepherd's life : - -Methinks it were a happy ...
Página 17
... never can deceive him , Is full of thousand sweets and rich content : The smooth leaved beeches in the field receive him With coolest shades , till noon - tide rage is spent ; His life is neither toss'd in boist'rous seas Of troublous ...
... never can deceive him , Is full of thousand sweets and rich content : The smooth leaved beeches in the field receive him With coolest shades , till noon - tide rage is spent ; His life is neither toss'd in boist'rous seas Of troublous ...
Outras edições - Ver tudo
The Merrie Days of England: Sketches of the Olden Time Edward McDermott (of Camberwell, Eng.?) Visualização integral - 1859 |
The Merrie Days of England: Sketches of the Olden Time Edward McDermott (of Camberwell, Eng.?) Visualização integral - 1859 |
Palavras e frases frequentes
abbeys abbot Adam Bell againſt alſo amid anceſtors bagpipes ballads barons beſt birds Biſhop brave caftle Canterbury cauſe Charles Mackay charms cheerful Christmas cloſe cottage cuſtom days of England deſcribed doth Earl Epicurus faid fair fays fhould fing firſt fiſh fome fong foreſt fport fuch fword golden green hall harp harvest hath hawk heart himſelf hofpitality holy honour horfes horſes hounds houſe hunting Izaak Walton Joseph Nash Juliana Berners king knights ladies gay Laft laſt Little John lords and ladies manfions maſter May-pole merrie days merrie England minstrels mirth mistletoe moſt mufic muſt never noble o'er old Engliſh paftimes perfon pilgrims play pleaſant pleaſure praiſe preſent preſerved Queen Robin Hood ſay ſcene ſeaſon ſee ſhall ſhe shepherds ſhow sing Sir John Holland ſkill ſmall ſome song ſport ſtill tell thee thefe themſelves theſe thoſe thou thouſand tournament tree uſe village whoſe
Passagens conhecidas
Página 16 - O God! methinks, it were a happy life, To be no better than a homely swain; To sit upon a hill, as I do now, To carve out dials quaintly, point by point, Thereby to see the minutes how they run: How many make the hour full complete, How many hours bring about the day, How many days will finish up the year, How many years a mortal man may live.
Página 144 - THE way was long, the wind was cold, The Minstrel was infirm and old ; His withered cheek, and tresses gray. Seemed to have known a better day ; The harp, his sole remaining joy, Was carried by an orphan boy. The last of all the bards was he. Who sung of Border chivalry; For, well-a-day ! their date was fled, His tuneful brethren all were dead ; And he, neglected and oppressed, Wished to be with them, and at rest...
Página 16 - So many hours must I tend my flock ; So many hours must I take my rest ; So many hours must I contemplate ; So many hours must I sport myself; So many days my ewes have been with young; So many weeks ere the poor fools will...
Página 19 - Shepherds all, and maidens fair, Fold your flocks up, for the air 'Gins to thicken, and the sun Already his great course hath run. See the dew-drops how they kiss Every little flower that is; Hanging on their velvet heads, Like a rope of crystal beads...
Página 19 - Hovering o'er the wanton face Of these pastures, where they come, Striking dead both bud and bloom : Therefore, from such danger lock Every one his loved flock; And let your dogs lie loose without, Lest the wolf come as a scout From the mountain, and, ere day, Bear a lamb or kid away; Or the crafty thievish fox Break upon your simple flocks. To secure...
Página 3 - Through glowing orchards forth they peep, Each from its nook of leaves ; And fearless there the lowly sleep, As the bird beneath their eaves.
Página 85 - Come live with me, and be my love, And we will some new pleasures prove, Of golden sands, and crystal brooks, With silken lines, and silver hooks.
Página 146 - And, would the noble Duchess deign To listen to an old man's strain, Though stiff his hand, his voice though weak, He thought even yet, the sooth to speak, That, if she loved the harp to hear, He could make music to her ear.
Página 122 - Below me trees unnumbered rise, Beautiful in various dyes: The gloomy pine, the poplar blue, The yellow beech, the sable yew, The slender fir, that taper grows, The sturdy oak with broad-spread boughs; And beyond the purple grove, Haunt of Phillis, queen of love! Gaudy as the opening dawn, Lies a long and level lawn On which a dark hill, steep and high, Holds and charms the wandering eye!
Página 9 - Nay! not so much as out of bed; When all the birds have matins said, And sung their thankful hymns; 'tis sin, Nay, profanation to keep in, When as a thousand virgins on this day Spring, sooner than the lark, to fetch in May.