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 3

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F.C. and J. Rivington, 1812 - Ballads, English
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Page 254 - When in one night, ere glimpse of morn, His shadowy flail hath threshed the corn That ten day-labourers could not end ; Then lies him down the lubber fiend, And, stretched out all the chimney's length, Basks at the fire his hairy strength, And crop-full out of doors he flings, Ere the first cock his matin rings.
Page 219 - Still to be neat, still to be drest, As you were going to a feast; Still to be powdered, still perfumed: Lady, it is to be presumed, Though art's hid causes are not found, All is not sweet, all is not sound. Give me a look, give me a face, That makes simplicity a grace; Robes loosely flowing, hair as free; Such sweet neglect more taketh me Than all th...
Page 126 - At cards for kisses — Cupid paid ; He stakes his quiver, bow and arrows, His mother's doves, and team of sparrows ; Loses them too ; then down he throws The coral of his lip, the rose Growing on's cheek (but none knows how) ; With these, the crystal of his brow, And then the dimple of his chin : All these did my Campaspe win. At last he set her both his eyes, She won, and Cupid blind did rise. O Love ! has she done this to thee ? What shall, alas ! become of me...
Page 393 - So shall the fairest face appear When youth and years are flown; Such is the robe that kings must wear When death has reft their crown.
Page 302 - HE that loves a rosy Cheek, Or a coral Lip admires ; Or from star-like Eyes doth seek Fuel to maintain his fires : As old Time makes these decay, So his flames must waste away ! But a smooth and steadfast Mind, Gentle Thoughts, and calm Desires, Hearts with equal love combined, Kindle never-dying fires ! Where these are not ; I despise Lovely Cheeks ! or Lips ! or Eyes...
Page 337 - Tell me not, Sweet, I am unkind That from the nunnery Of thy chaste breast and quiet mind, To war and arms I fly. True, a new mistress now I chase, The first foe in the field; And with a stronger faith embrace A sword, a horse, a shield. Yet this inconstancy is such As you too shall adore; I could not love thee, dear, so much, Loved I not honour more.
Page 243 - Think what with them they would do That without them dare to woo ; And unless that mind I see, What care I how great she be ? Great, or good, or kind, or fair, I will ne'er the more despair: If she love me, this believe, I will die ere she shall grieve : If she slight me when I woo, I can scorn and let her go ; For if she be not for me, What care I for whom she be ? George Wither.
Page 265 - Mary's days On many a grassy plain. But since of late Elizabeth, And, later, James came in, They never danced on any heath, As when the time hath bin.
Page 126 - ... paid; He stakes his quiver, bow and arrows, His mother's doves, and team of sparrows; Loses them too; then down he throws The coral of his lip, the rose Growing on's cheek (but none knows how), With these, the crystal of his brow, And then the dimple of his chin; All these did my Campaspe win. At last he set her both his eyes, She won, and Cupid blind did rise. O Love! has she done this to thee? What shall, alas! become of me? THE SONGS OF BIRDS What bird so sings, yet so does wail? O 'tis the...

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