Ballads Done Into English from the French of Francois Villon

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T.B. Mosher, 1916 - 40 pages

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Page 3 - TELL me now in what hidden way is Lady Flora the lovely Roman ? Where's Hipparchia, and where is Thais, Neither of them the fairer woman? Where is Echo, beheld of no man, Only heard on river and mere, — She whose beauty was more than human? But where are the snows of yester-year?
Page 5 - DEATH, of thee do I make my moan, Who hadst my lady away from me, Nor wilt assuage thine enmity Till with her life thou hast mine own; For since that hour my strength has flown. Lo ! what wrong was her life to thee, Death ? Two we were, and the heart was one; Which now being dead, dead I must be, Or seem alive as lifelessly As in the choir the painted stone, Death...
Page 7 - Host and sacring of the Mass. Even in this faith I choose to live and die. A pitiful poor woman, shrunk and old, I am, and nothing learn'd in letter-lore. Within my parish-cloister I behold A painted Heaven where harps and lutes adore, And eke an Hell whose damned folk seethe full sore : One bringeth fear, the other joy to me.
Page 29 - MEN, brother men, that after us yet live, Let not your hearts too hard against us be; For if some pity of us poor men ye give, The sooner God shall take of you pity. Here are we five or six strung up, you see, And here the flesh that all too well we fed Bit by bit eaten and rotten, rent and shred, And we the bones grow dust and ash withal ; Let no man laugh at us discomforted, But pray to God that he forgive us all.
Page 7 - Heaven where harps and lutes adore, And eke an Hell whose damned folk seethe full sore: One bringeth fear, the other joy to me. That joy, great Goddess, make thou mine to be, — Thou of whom all must ask it even as I; And that which faith desires, that let it see. For in this faith I choose to live and die. O excellent Virgin Princess ! thou didst bear King Jesus, the most excellent comforter, Who even of this our weakness craved a share And for our sake stooped to us from on high, Offering to death...
Page 14 - Noe took third part of that fun; Such wedding-gloves are ill to buy; Good luck has he that deals with none! But for that young man fair and free To pass those young maids lightly by, Nay, would you burn him quick, not he; Like broom-horsed witches though he fry, They are sweet as civet in his eye; But trust them, and you're fooled anon; For white or brown, and low or high, Good luck has he that deals with none!
Page 6 - LADY of Heaven and earth, and therewithal Crowned Empress of the nether clefts of Hell, — I, thy poor Christian, on thy name do call, Commending me to thee, with thee to dwell, Albeit in nought I be commendable. But all mine undeserving may not mar Such mercies as thy sovereign mercies are...
Page 9 - Ah fierce old age with foul bald head, To spoil fair things thou art over fain; Who holdeth me? who? would God I were dead! Would God I were well dead and slain!
Page 4 - Who willed that Buridan should steer Sewed in a sack's mouth down the Seine ? . . . But where are the snows of yester-year ? White Queen Blanche, like a queen of lilies, With a voice like any mermaiden, — Bertha Broadfoot, Beatrice, Alice, And Ermengarde the lady of Maine, — And that good Joan whom Englishmen At Rouen doomed and burned her there, — Mother of God, where are they then ? . . . But where are the snows of yester-year...

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