Reliques of Ancient English Poetry: Consisting of Old Heroic Ballads, Songs and Other Pieces of the Earlier Poets, with Some of Later Date, Not Included in Any Other Ed. to which is Now Added a Supplement of Many Curious Historical and Narrative Ballads, Reprinted from Rare Copies with a Copious Glossary and NotesThomas Percy F. Bell, 1860 - 558 стор. |
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Загальні терміни та фрази
Adam Bell ancient arrow awaye ballad Baron bonny brave bride called castle Child Waters copy Cotton Library dame daughter daye dear death doth dragon Du Cange Earl Editor Editor's folio England English Erle fair fair lady father Fause Foodrage fayre fell fight frae gallant Gawaine gold gude hand hast hath heart heire of Linne Henry honour John King Arthur knight kyng lady ladye land Lord maid Mary Ambree Minstrels never noble Northumberland o'er Percy play poem poet praye prince printed Queen quoth reign Robin romance sayd saye sche Scotland Scots Scottish shee shold Sing slain sone song sonne sore stanzas steed sweet sword tell thee ther thou art thou shalt unto verse Whan wife willow wold word writers wyfe wyll wyth youth
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Сторінка 493 - One touch to her hand, and one word in her ear, When they reached the hall door, and the charger stood near; So light to the croupe the fair lady he swung, So light to the saddle before her he sprung ! — "She is won ! we are gone, over bank, bush, and scaur ! They'll have fleet steeds that follow !
Сторінка 493 - So stately his form, and so lovely her face, That never a hall such a galliard did grace; While her mother did fret, and her father did fume, And the bridegroom stood dangling his bonnet and plume...
Сторінка 409 - 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.
Сторінка 162 - Who God doth late and early pray, More of his grace than gifts to lend, And entertains the harmless day, With a religious book or friend. This man is freed from servile bands Of hope to rise, or fear to fall ; Lord of himself, though not of lands, And having nothing, yet hath all.
Сторінка 493 - Twere better by far, To have malcli'd our fair cousin with young Lochinvar." One touch to her hand, and one word in her ear, When they reach'd the hall door, and the charger stood near, So light to the croupe the fair lady he swung, So light to the saddle before her he sprung! " She is won ! we aie gone, over bank, bush, and scaur; They'll have fleet steeds that follow!
Сторінка xx - ... or else by blind harpers or such like taverne minstrels that give a fit of mirth for a groat, and their matters being for the most part stories of old time, as the tale of sir Topas, the reportes of Bevis of Southampton, Guy of Warwicke, Adam Bell, and Clymme of the Clough, and such other old romances or historicall rimes, made purposely for recreation of the common people at christmasse diners and brideales, and in tavernes and alehouses, and such other places of base resort.
Сторінка 51 - I never heard the old song of Percy and Douglas that I found not my heart moved more than with a trumpet...
Сторінка 146 - Some men with swords may reap the field, And plant fresh laurels where they kill: But their strong nerves at last must yield; They tame but one another still: Early or late They stoop to fate, And must give up their murmuring breath, When they, pale captives, creep to death. The garlands wither on your brow, Then boast no more your mighty deeds; Upon Death's purple altar now See, where the victor-victim bleeds: Your heads must come To the cold tomb; Only the actions of the just Smell sweet, and blossom...
Сторінка 128 - Come live with me, and be my love. And we will some new pleasures prove Of golden sands, and crystal brooks, With silken lines, and silver hooks.
Сторінка 286 - Enlarged winds, that curl the flood, Know no such liberty. Stone walls do not a prison make, Nor iron bars a cage; Minds innocent and quiet take That for an hermitage; If I have freedom in my love And in my soul am free, Angels alone, that soar above, Enjoy such liberty.