Dialect of the West Riding of Yorkshire: A Short History of Leeds and Other Towns

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J. Hartley, 1891 - English language - 142 pages
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Page 65 - Ye high, exalted, virtuous dames, Tied up in godly laces, Before ye gi'e poor Frailty names, Suppose a change o' cases ; A dear-loved lad, convenience snug, A treacherous inclination — But, let me whisper i' your lug, Ye're aiblins nae temptation.
Page 80 - Fear not, said he, (for mighty dread Had seized their troubled mind,) Glad tidings of great joy I bring To you and all mankind.
Page 127 - COME, let us anew Our journey pursue — Roll round with the year, And never stand still till the Master appear ; His adorable will Let us gladly fulfil, And our talents improve By the patience of hope, and the labor of love.
Page 70 - Nottinghamshire, In merry sweet Locksly town, There bold Robin Hood he was born and was bred, Bold Robin of famous renown.
Page 98 - To master John the English maid A horn-book gives of ginger-bread ; And, that the child may learn the better, As he can name, he eats the letter.
Page 27 - Peace, and therefore we pray to God to give us Peace. Commonly we say a Judgment falls upon a Man for something in him we cannot abide. An example we have in King James, concerning the Death of Henry the Fourth of France : one said he was killed for his Wenching, another said he was killed for turning his Religion. No, says King James (who could not abide fighting), he was killed for permitting Duels in his Kingdom.
Page 43 - Now well-a-day," said the heir of Linne, "Now well-a-day, and woe is me; For when I had my landes so broad, On me they lived right merrily.
Page 13 - Heaven doth with us as we with torches do, Not light them for themselves ; for if our virtues Did not go forth of us, 'twere all alike As if we had them not.
Page 91 - Some threwe them under the table, And swore that they had none. Sir Cradock had a little knife, Of steel and iron made; And in an instant thro' the skull He thrust the shining blade.
Page 34 - And I had done a hellish thing. And it would work 'em woe: For all averred. I had killed the bird That made the breeze to blow.

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