Ballads in Imitation of the Antient

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T.N. Longman and O. Rees, 1801 - Ballads, English - 201 pages
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Page 96 - Catharine ye shall pity, For the dame your tears will flow. Percy fled the heart that lov'd him, Swift he did his course pursue : Catherine wail'd her Hotspur's absence, She had mickle cause to rue. From the morn till silent evening Moan'd this lady kind and fair, ' Smile, my babe, oh ! smile my infant, < Smile, and ease thy mother's care...
Page 99 - Were there any to be seen. Nothing, save the lark so cheery, Naught but birds the dame could see ; ' Ah," quod Catherine, ' little songsters, ' Ye are happier far than me ; ' Each can fly to bonny green wood, ' There you'll find your mate so true; ' Wou'd I were but such a songster,
Page 120 - Around my front I'll twine a wreath Of willow-leaves so pale. Might I intreat of that soft hair. One glossy ringlet sweet, I'd guard it as love's relic rare : Love should the present greet ! Frown not, adored, angelic maid, At love the most refined ; Pity the heart you have betrayed. The urchin god is blind.
Page 186 - K'en, like all these, my mistress once was true, But now, grown false, to all ehe bids adieu. Free as the air on desart wild, Or free as Fancy, Nature's child, Or free as lark that pipes on high, Or free as stars that lace the sky. Or free as soul when Death's...
Page 190 - His own suff rings little heeding, Glory having crown'd the day; Faint with pain, with thirst expiring, Oft he claims the friendly bowl; Water's cooling draught requiring, To recruit his sick'ning soul. Soon the ample can was given, By a Squire of Sydney's train; But this virtuous child of heaven, Melted at another's pain. For from off the field of battle, Where the hardy warriors bled, Where the murd'rous cannons rattle, Seal'd so many with the dead; Lo, a menial Soldier dying, By his pitying comrades...
Page 136 - A wreath of its branche« now twines his poor head, For with the false maid is all happiness fled. Twas Beauty that struck the dire blow ; Twas Ellen, the fair, That planted despair, Whose unfeeling heart, like mildew, did blight Joy's smiling bud, and each wonted delight. Frantic and straw-decked...
Page 135 - And the reeling fal de ral tit. POOR EDWY. (WH Ireland.) POOR Edwy's look is dejected and pale, Sing hey, nonny, ho, nonny, no ! Edwy, who late was the pride of the dale, Now tunes the pipe to rehearse his sad tale; Adown his wan cheek the tears flow -9 Poor Edwv's betrayed.
Page 98 - Sputhward wav'd the forest green, Ni of footmen, ni of horsemen, Were there any to be seen. Nothing, save the lark so cherry, Nought but birds the dame could see ;
Page 133 - Where gen'rous Friendship bears the sway. With Harmony combined. ROSA AND WILLIAM. (WH Ireland.) ROSA sat sighing beside the clear brook, Sing hey, lillo, ho, lillo, lee : Pale was her cheek, and dejected her look, On the green bank lay her basket and crook ; She sighed forth, alas! woe is me ; Ah ! why did he stray From me far away t Never, poor Rosa, wilt thou see him more, Willy, the swain, whom thy soul doth adore!
Page 97 - Smile, and ease thy mother's care.' From the eve till dusky twilight Did this weeping lady say, . Ah, my babe, thy sire hath fled us, ' Whither doth my Percy stray ?' And by night, upon the pillow, Watchful were her eyes so bright ; « Sweetly sleep, my smiling baby, ' Thou alone dost cheer my sight : ' As I trace thine infant features, • As I trace them line for line, ' Lo, I view my lord, my husband, ' In that face doth Percy shine...

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