The Universal Songster and Museum of Mirth: A Collection of Popular Songs, Том 2 |
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Сторінка 55
By your sons in servile chains ! We will drain our dearest veins , But they shall be
, shall be free Lay the proud usurpers low ! Tyrants fall in every foe ! Liberty ' s in
every blow ! Forward ! let us do or die ! TELL ME , ARE YE SLEEPIN ' MAGGIE ?
By your sons in servile chains ! We will drain our dearest veins , But they shall be
, shall be free Lay the proud usurpers low ! Tyrants fall in every foe ! Liberty ' s in
every blow ! Forward ! let us do or die ! TELL ME , ARE YE SLEEPIN ' MAGGIE ?
Сторінка 56
Aboon my breath I dauma speak , : For fear I rise your waukrife daddy ; Cauld ' s
the blast upon my cheek ; O rise , rise my bonny lady , Tell me , & c . She op ' t the
door , she let him , He cuist aside his dreepin ' plaidie ; , : • Blaw your warst , ye ...
Aboon my breath I dauma speak , : For fear I rise your waukrife daddy ; Cauld ' s
the blast upon my cheek ; O rise , rise my bonny lady , Tell me , & c . She op ' t the
door , she let him , He cuist aside his dreepin ' plaidie ; , : • Blaw your warst , ye ...
Сторінка 233
I ' ll tell the exciseman . DRAWING THE LONG BOW . OVER port , pipe , or snuff -
box , there ' s always some wight To tell a long story at club ev ' ry night , Wanting
wit at a pinch , the box helps a bad joke , Or deficient in fire , he supplies ye ...
I ' ll tell the exciseman . DRAWING THE LONG BOW . OVER port , pipe , or snuff -
box , there ' s always some wight To tell a long story at club ev ' ry night , Wanting
wit at a pinch , the box helps a bad joke , Or deficient in fire , he supplies ye ...
Сторінка 262
My work being done , to the lawn there I fly , Where the lads at the lasses all look
very sly ; And I ' ze deeply in love with a girl , it is true , And I know what I know ,
but I munna tell you But I ' ll whistle , I ' ll whistle , for of all the girls I e ' er did see ...
My work being done , to the lawn there I fly , Where the lads at the lasses all look
very sly ; And I ' ze deeply in love with a girl , it is true , And I know what I know ,
but I munna tell you But I ' ll whistle , I ' ll whistle , for of all the girls I e ' er did see ...
Сторінка 269
In life ' s closing hour , when the trembling soul Alies . And death stills the heart ' s
last emotion ; O ! then may the seraph of mercy arise Like a star on eternity ' s
ocean ! WILLIAM TELL . WHEN William Tell was doom ' J to die , Or hit the mark ...
In life ' s closing hour , when the trembling soul Alies . And death stills the heart ' s
last emotion ; O ! then may the seraph of mercy arise Like a star on eternity ' s
ocean ! WILLIAM TELL . WHEN William Tell was doom ' J to die , Or hit the mark ...
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Загальні терміни та фрази
arms banks beauty blow blue bonnie bosom bottle bound boys brave breast bright bring charms cheer cried danger dark dead dear death drink drum face fair faithful father fear fight gallant gave girl give glass glory grave green hand happy head hear heard heart Heigho Highland hope horn hour I'll Jack John kiss lady land lass lassie light live look maid meet morning mountain ne'er never night o'er o’er once Paddy peace pleasure poor rest roar rose round sail shore sigh sing sleep smile soldier song sons soon soul sound stand sure sweet tear tell thee There's thou thought took true TUNE turn Twas wave wife wild wind young
Популярні уривки
Сторінка 73 - River where ford there was none: But ere he alighted at Netherby gate The bride had consented, the gallant came late: For a laggard in love, and a dastard in war Was to wed the fair Ellen of brave Lochinvar.
Сторінка 29 - Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there. Oh, say, does that star-spangled banner yet wave O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave? On the shore, dimly seen through the mists of the deep, Where the foe's haughty host in dread silence reposes, What is that which the breeze, o'er the towering steep, As it fitfully blows, half conceals, half discloses?
Сторінка 171 - By the wolf-scaring faggot that guarded the slain, At the dead of the night a sweet vision I saw; And thrice ere the morning I dreamt it again.
Сторінка 21 - When Freedom, from her mountain height, Unfurled her standard to the air, She tore the azure robe of night, And set the stars of glory there; She mingled with its gorgeous dyes The milky baldric of the skies, And striped its pure, celestial white With streakings of the morning light; Then, from his mansion in the sun, She called her eagle bearer down, And gave into his mighty hand, The symbol of her chosen land.
Сторінка 175 - Few and short were the prayers we said, And we spoke not a word of sorrow; But we steadfastly gazed on the face that was dead, And we bitterly thought of the morrow.
Сторінка 30 - Their blood has washed out their foul footsteps' pollution. No refuge could save the hireling and slave From the terror of flight or the gloom of the grave ; And the star-spangled banner in triumph doth wave O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave.
Сторінка 268 - Mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam, Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home ; A charm from the skies seems to hallow us there, Which, seek through the world, is ne'er met with elsewhere. Home ! home ! sweet, sweet home ! There's no place like home...
Сторінка 26 - And the heavy night hung dark The hills and waters o'er, When a band of exiles moored their bark On the wild New England shore. Not as the conqueror comes, They, the true-hearted, came; Not with the roll of the stirring drums, And the trumpet that sings of fame; Not as the flying come, In silence and in fear;— They shook the depths of the desert gloom With their hymns of lofty cheer.
Сторінка 74 - mong Graemes of the Netherby clan; Forsters...
Сторінка 75 - O' my sweet Highland Mary. How sweetly bloom'd the gay green birk , How rich the hawthorn's blossom , As underneath their fragrant shade I clasp'd her to my bosom ! The golden hours, on angel wings, Flew o'er me and my dearie; For dear to me , as light and life , Was my sweet Highland Mary. Wi' monie a vow , and lock'd embrace , Our parting was fu' tender; And , pledging aft to meet again , We tore oursels asunder; But oh!