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Page 476 - For now the fragrant flowers do spring And sprout in seemly sort, The little birds do sit and sing, The lambs do make fine sport; And now the birchen-tree doth bud, That makes the schoolboy cry; The morris rings...
Page 463 - When it was grown to dark midnight, And all were fast asleep, In came Margaret's grimly ghost, And stood at William's feet.
Page 475 - These are but sparing rites ; but if thy soul Be yet about this place, and can behold And see what I prepare to deck thee with, It shall go up, borne on the wings of peace, And satisfied. First will I sing thy dirge, Then kiss thy pale lips, and then die myself, And fill one coffin and one grave together.
Page 455 - George. Right courteous and valiant Knight of the Burning Pestle, here is a distressed damsel to have a halfpennyworth of pepper. [Wife. That's a good boy! see, the little boy can hit it; by my troth, it's a fine child.] Ralph.
Page 348 - They break, and Love would Reason meet, But Hate was nimbler on her feet ; Fancy looks for Pride, and thither Hies, and they two hug together : Yet this new coupling still doth tell, That Love and Folly were in hell.
Page 469 - Till at the length at this unhappy town We did arrive, and coming to this cave, This beast us caught, and put us in a tub, Where we this two months sweat, and should have done Another month, if you had not relieved us.2 Woman.
Page 476 - May-day in the morning, and speak upon a conduit, with all his scarfs about him, and his feathers, and his rings, and his knacks. Boy. Why, sir, you do not think of our plot ; what will become of that, then?
Page 476 - London, to thee I do present the merry month of May; Let each true subject be content to hear me what I say: For from the top of conduit-head, as plainly may appear, I will both tell my name to you, and wherefore I came here. My name is Ralph, by due descent though not ignoble I, Yet far inferior to the flock of gracious grocery;" And by the common counsel of my fellows in the Strand, With gilded staff and crossed scarf, the Maylord here I stand.
Page 72 - God Lyaeus, ever young, Ever honoured, ever sung, Stained with blood of lusty grapes, In a thousand lusty shapes, Dance upon the mazer's ' brim, In the crimson liquor swim ; From thy plenteous hand divine, Let a river run with wine. God of youth, let this day here Enter neither care nor fear...