A Book of favourite modern ballads

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D. Appleton, 1860 - Music - 167 pages
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Page 80 - His hair is crisp, and black, and long ; His face is like the tan ; His brow is wet with honest sweat ; He earns whate'er he can, And looks the whole world in the face, For he owes not any man.
Page 31 - I remember, I remember, Where I was used to swing; And thought the air must rush as fresh To swallows on the wing: My spirit flew in feathers then, That is so heavy now, And summer pools could hardly cool The fever on my brow!
Page 31 - I REMEMBER, I REMEMBER. I REMEMBER, I remember, The house where I was born, The little window where the sun Came peeping in at morn: He never came a wink too soon, Nor brought too long a day ; But now, I often wish the night Had borne my breath away ! I remember, I remember...
Page 51 - In happy homes he saw the light Of household fires gleam warm and bright; Above, the spectral glaciers shone, And from his lips escaped a groan, Excelsior! "Try not the Pass!
Page 82 - And children coming home from school Look in at the open door ; They love to see the flaming forge, And hear the bellows roar. And catch the burning sparks that fly Like chaff from a threshing-floor. He goes on Sunday to the church, And sits among his boys He hears the parson pray and preach, He hears his daughter's voice, Singing in the village choir, And it makes his heart rejoice.
Page 93 - Autumn, — and sunshine arose on the way To the home of my fathers, that welcomed me back I flew to the pleasant fields traversed so oft In life's morning march, when my bosom was young; I heard my own mountain-goats bleating aloft. And knew the sweet strain that the corn-reapers sung.
Page 37 - By this the storm grew loud apace, The water-wraith was shrieking; And in the scowl of heaven each face Grew dark as they were speaking. But still as wilder blew the wind, And as the night grew drearer, Adown the glen rode armed men, Their trampling sounded nearer. " O haste thee, haste ! " the lady cries, " Though tempests round us gather, I'll meet the raging of the skies, But not an angry father.
Page 15 - Eske river where ford there was none ; But ere he alighted at Netherby gate The bride had consented, the gallant came late: For a laggard in love and a dastard in war Was to wed the fair Ellen of brave Lochinvar.

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