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ANACREON Andrew Barton Bacchus BALLAD beauty bower bowl boys brave bring bumper call'd chear claret Comus cries crown dear death delight Derry dost doth dragon drank drink earl Douglas earl Percy eyes fair lady fame flain foul gallant give glass gold grace grave grief hand happy hast hath head heart hundred Johny Armstrong king knight lady Lancelot lise little Musgrave live lord Barnard lovers maid merry mind mirth ne'er never noble o'er old cap Percy pleasure poor pound prince queen quoth ride round sear sellows sierce sight sill sill'd sing sir Andrew sire sirst slain SONG SONG sorrow soul squire stormy winds strise Sweet William tell thee there's thing thou art thou shalt Tis wine true twas Twill unto Vex'd vicar of Bray wealth WILLIAM SHENSTONE winds do blow wise
Page 153 - No wither'd witch shall here be seen, No goblins lead their nightly crew : The female fays shall haunt the green, And dress thy grave with pearly dew. The redbreast oft at evening hours Shall kindly lend his little aid, With hoary moss, and gather'd flowers, To deck the ground where thou art laid.
Page 140 - AN old song made by an aged old pate, Of an old worshipful gentleman, who had a great estate, That kept a brave old house at a bountiful rate, And an old porter to relieve the poor at his gate ; Like an old courtier of the queen's, And the queen's old courtier.
Page 144 - Tu-who, a merry note, While greasy Joan doth keel the pot. When all aloud the wind doth blow And coughing drowns the parson's saw And birds sit brooding in the snow And Marian's nose looks red and...
Page 252 - Sweet sister, do not fear ; God never prosper me nor mine, Nor aught else that I have, If I do wrong your children dear, When you are laid in grave.
Page 87 - Who God doth late and early pray, More of His grace than gifts to lend; And entertains the harmless day With a religious book or friend : This man is freed from servile bands Of hope to rise, or fear to fall ; Lord of himself, though not of lands; And having nothing, yet hath all.
Page 145 - Under the greenwood tree Who loves to lie with me, And tune his merry note Unto the sweet bird's throat-- Come hither, come hither, come hither! Here shall we see No enemy But winter and rough weather. Who doth ambition shun And loves to live i' the sun, Seeking the food he eats And pleased with what he gets-- Come hither, come hither, come hither!
Page 118 - Their purpose is ambition, Their practice only hate : And if they once reply, Then give them all the lie. Tell...
Page 82 - Some have too much, yet still do crave; I little have, and seek no more. They are but poor, though much they have, And I am rich with little store: They poor, I rich; they beg, I give; They lack, I leave; they pine, I live.
Page 253 - ... strife ; With one another they did fight About the children's life : And he that was of mildest mood, Did slay the other there, Within an unfrequented wood...