The BalladeColumbia University Press, 1915 - 397 стор. Undertakes the history of this verse form from its origins in romance lands through France and England. Shows how the formal ballade became reduced to three stanzas with identical scheme and refrain. |
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Загальні терміни та фрази
A. C. Swinburne Amour Amoureuse autre babbcc ballette Bibliothèque bien bonne British Museum c'est century ceste Chansons chant royal Charles d'Orléans chascun Chaucer Christine de Pisan cinq Clément Marot Complètes de Eustache couplet cuer cueur d'Amours dame deux Dieu doit Douce envoy estre Eustache Deschamps Euvres Complètes F. J. Furnivall faict faire fait femme fifteenth France François Villon French Geoffrey Chaucer H. N. MacCracken Jeanroy l'enuoy lades lady Langlois lignes lines London Lydgate lyric Maistre manuscript Marot Middle English Molinet mort n'en n'est noble Opus Cit pareille poem Poésie poet poetic poetry premier Prince qu'il quoy refrain Rhétorique rien rime-scheme riming a ba rondeau saincte serventois seven-line stanzas sillabes stanzas riming Stengel syllables temps Théodore de Banville three stanzas tout trois Trouvère vers verse Vierge vray W. W. Skeat
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Сторінка 326 - 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...
Сторінка 333 - I hid my heart in a nest of roses, Out of the sun's way, hidden apart; In a softer bed than the soft white snow's is, Under the roses I hid my heart.
Сторінка 93 - Haremburgis qui tint le Maine. Et Jehanne la bonne Lorraine Qu'Englois brulerent a Rouan; Ou sont ilz, ou. Vierge souvraine? Mais ou sont les neiges d'antan?
Сторінка 241 - No ! let me taste the whole of it, fare like my peers The heroes of old, Bear the brunt, in a minute pay glad life's arrears, Of pain, darkness, and cold.
Сторінка xiii - Attendez !... je choisis mes rimes... Là, j'y suis. Il fait ce qu'il dit, à mesure. Je jette avec grâce mon feutre, Je fais lentement l'abandon Du grand manteau qui me calfeutre...
Сторінка 240 - Stryve noght, as doth the crokke with the wal. Daunte thy-self, that dauntest otheres dede; And trouthe shal delivere, hit is no drede.
Сторінка 338 - Singing him to rest, — Came, and tenderly confessed, Perched on leafy prongs, Life were sweet if they possessed One to write their songs. ENVOY Austin, it was you they blest: Fame to you belongs! Time has proven you're the best One to write their songs.
Сторінка 65 - Au moustier voy dont suis paroissienne Paradis paint, ou sont harpes et lus, Et ung enfer ou dampnez sont boullus: L'ung me fait paour, l'autre joye et Hesse. La joye avoir me fay, haulte Deesse, A qui pecheurs doivent tous recourir, Comblez de foy, sans fainte ne paresse: En ceste foy je vueil vivre et mourir.
Сторінка 322 - BALLADE OF DEAD LADIES. (AFTER VILLON.) Nay, tell me now in what strange air The Roman Flora dwells today. Where Archippiada hides, and where Beautiful Thais has passed away? Whence answers Echo, afield, astray, By mere or stream, — around, below? Lovelier she than a woman of clay; Nay, but where is the last year's snow?
Сторінка 327 - ... 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?