Reliques of Ancient English Poetry: Consisting of Old Heroic Ballads, Songs, and Other Pieces of Our Earlier Poets; Together with Some Few of Later Date, Volume 2 (Google eBook)
J.E. Moore, 1823 - Ballads, English
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alliteration ancient awaye ballad Bannatyne's banyshed beggar bonny brave copy cowe-hide dame daye death doth Dub a dub earl marshall earl of Surrey edition Editor Editor's folio Edward England English faire father fight frae gallant gold grace grene wode go grype Hardyknute Harpalus hart hath heart heire of Linne Henry intitled king king of Scots knight kyng lady ladye land lazar little John live Lord Vaux luve Makyne mankynde I love Mary Ambree metre mynde never noble poem poet pray pretty Bessee prince printed Prol queene quoth reign Robin Rosamond sayd sayes schal Scotland Scots Scottish shee sholde sir Aldingar Sir Andrew song sorrow stanza sweet sword Synge tanner tell thay thee ther Thomas thou art Turnament unto verse wele Wherfore wold word writer written wyll wyth
Page 358 - the flood. Know no such libertie. Stone walls doe not a prison make, 25 Nor iron barres a cage, Mindes, innocent, and quiet, take That for an hermitage : If I have freedom in my love, And in my soule am free,
Page 337 - pitie; Tell, vertue least preferreth : 70 And, if they doe reply, Spare not to give the lye. So, when thou hast, as I Commanded thee, done blabbing, Although to give the lye 75 Deserves no less than stabbing, Yet stab at thee who will, No stab the
Page 85 - the reader of taste will have a pleasure in comparing them with the original. ' And' still I tried each fickle art, Importunate and vain ; And while his passion touched my heart, I triumph'd in his pain. Till quite dejected with my scorn, He left me to my pride; And sought a solitude forlorn, In secret, where he
Page 86 - But mine the sorrow, mine the fault, And well my life shall pay; I'll seek the solitude he sought, And stretch me where he lay. And there forlorn despairing hid, I'll lay me down and die : Twas so for me
Page 411 - sheets my body cover, Unbar, ye bridal maids, the door, Let in the expected husband lover. 100 But who the expected husband husband is ? His hands, methinks, are bath'd in slaughter: Ah me ! what ghastly spectre's yon Comes in his pale shroud, bleeding after ? Pale as he is, here lay him, lay him down, 105
Page 384 - 10 Quit, quit for shame ; this will not move, This cannot take her; If of herself she will not love, Nothing can make her. XVII. OLD TOM OF BEDLAM. MAD SONG THE FIRST.
Page 343 - And at the third question thou must not shrink, But tell me here truly what I do think. O, these are hard questions for my shallow witt, Nor I cannot answer your grace as yet: But if you will give me but three weekes space, 35
Page 407 - gat her where I dare na weil be seen, Puing the birks on the Braes of Yarrow. Weep not, weep not, my bonny bonny bride, Weep not, weep not, my winsome marrow; 10 Nor let thy heart lament to leive Puing the birks on the Braes of Yarrow. B. Why docs she weep, thy bonny bonny bride? Why does