Preface. A historical essay on the origin and progress of national song. Love-songs
J. Johnson, 1783 - Ballads, English
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admire ancient appear arms ballads beauty breaſt bring called charms collection complain compofed compofitions dear death delight elegant English eyes face fair fame fear feem fhall fhepherd fhould figh fing fire flame foft fome fond fongs foon foul French ftill fubject fuch fung fweet gentle give grace grove hand happy head hear heart hope hour Italy kind king known language live look lover maid meet merit mind moft moſt move mufic muft muſt nature ne'er never night nymph o'er once original paffion pain perhaps pieces pity pleaſure poet poetry prefent prove reign ſhe SONG SONG SONG ſweet tears tell tender thee thefe theſe thing thofe thoſe thou thought true voice whofe willow wind writer youth
Page 24 - Go, lovely rose ! Tell her that wastes her time and me, That now she knows, When I resemble her to thee, How sweet and fair she seems to be. Tell her that's young, And shuns to have her graces spied. That hadst thou sprung In deserts where no men abide, Thou must have uncommended died. Small is the worth Of beauty from the light retired : Bid her come forth, Suffer herself to be desired, And not blush so to be admired. Then die ! that she The common fate of all things rare May read in thee, — How...
Page 215 - The cord slides swiftly through his glowing hands, And, quick as lightning, on the deck he stands. So the sweet lark, high poised in air, Shuts close his pinions to his breast, If chance his mate's shrill call he hear, And drops at once into her nest. The noblest captain...
Page 59 - I have found out a gift for my fair; I have found where the wood-pigeons breed; But let me that plunder forbear, She will say 'twas a barbarous deed...
Page 229 - A cap of flowers, and a kirtle Embroider'd all with leaves of myrtle. A gown made of the finest wool, Which from our pretty lambs we pull, Fair lined slippers for the cold, With buckles of the purest gold.
Page 212 - OF all the girls that are so smart There's none like pretty Sally; She is the darling of my heart, And she lives in our alley. There is no lady in the land Is half so sweet as Sally; She is the darling of my heart, And she lives in our alley.
Page 170 - When lovely woman stoops to folly. And finds, too late, that men betray. What charm can soothe her melancholy, What art can wash her guilt away? The only art her guilt to cover. To hide her shame from every eye, To give repentance to her lover, And wring his bosom, — is to die.
Page 100 - Be conceal'd from the day, Set a thousand guards upon her, Love will find out the way. Some think to lose him...
Page 64 - And while a false nymph was his theme, A willow supported his head. The wind, that blew over the plain, To his sighs with a sigh did reply : And the brook, in return to his pain, Ran mournfully murmuring by.
Page 230 - Nymph's Reply to the Shepherd If all the world and love were young, And truth in every shepherd's tongue, These pretty pleasures might me move To live with thee and be thy love. But time drives flocks from field to fold, When rivers rage and rocks grow cold, And Philomel becometh dumb, The rest complains of cares to come.
Page 63 - Alas ! from the day that we met, What hope of an end to my woes? When I cannot endure to forget The glance that undid my repose. Yet time may diminish the pain: The flower, and the shrub, and the tree, Which I rear'd for her pleasure in vain, In time may have comfort for me.