The Suffolk Garland: Or, a Collection of Poems, Songs, Tales, Ballads, Sonnets, and Elegies, Legendary and Romantic, Historical and Descriptive, Relative to that County; and Illustrative of Its Scenery, Places, Biography, Manners, Habits and Customs (Google eBook)

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James Ford
John Raw, 1818 - English literature - 404 pages
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Page 26 - Where other cares than those the Muse relates, And other shepherds dwell with other mates ; By such examples taught, I paint the Cot, As Truth...
Page vi - Cowley: so, on the contrary, an ordinary song or ballad, that is the delight of the common people, cannot fail to please all such readers as are not unqualified for the entertainment by their affectation or ignorance; and the reason is plain, because the same paintings of nature which recommend it to the most ordinary reader, will appear beautiful to the most refined.
Page 334 - No rake takes here what Heaven to all bestows Children of want, for you the bounty flows ! And every cottage from the plenteous store Receives a burden nightly at its door. Hark ! where the sweeping scythe now rips along, Each sturdy mower, emulous and strong, Whose writhing form meridian heat defies, Bends o'er his work, and every sinew tries; Prostrates the waving treasure at his feet, But spares the rising clover, short and sweet.
Page 135 - She turn'd it stopt ! nought could she see Upon the gloomy plain ; But, as she strove the Sprite to flee, She heard the same again. Now terror seized her quaking frame ; For, where the path was bare. The trotting Ghost kept on the same : She mutter'd many a pray'r.
Page 253 - Divines and dying men may talk of hell, But in my heart her several torments dwell.
Page 26 - There poppies nodding, mock the hope of toil ; There the blue bugloss paints the sterile soil ; Hardy and high, above the slender sheaf, The slimy mallow waves her silky leaf; O'er the young shoot the charlock throws a shade, And clasping tares cling round the sickly blade...
Page 104 - Mark it, Cesario; it is old and plain: The spinsters and the knitters in the sun, And the free maids that weave their thread with bones, Do use to chant it ; it is silly sooth, And dallies with the innocence of love, Like the old age.
Page 304 - 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-aday! their date was fled; His tuneful brethren all were dead; And he, neglected and oppressed, Wished to be with them, and at rest.
Page 183 - To read what manner music that might be: For all that pleasing is to living ear, Was there consorted in one harmony; Birds, voices, instruments, winds, waters, all agree. The joyous birds, shrouded in cheerful shade, Their notes unto the voice attempered sweet; Th' angelical soft trembling voices made To th...
Page 368 - Backe and syde go bare, go bare, Booth foote and hand go colde, But belly, God send thee good ale ynoughe Whether it be new or olde.

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