Reliques of Ancient English Poetry:: Consisting of Old Heroic Ballads, Songs, and Other Pieces of Our Earlier Poets, (chiefly of the Lyric Kind.) Together with Some Few of Later Date. Volume the First. [-third.].J. Dodsley in Pall-Mall., 1765 - Ballads, English |
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Page 57
... doth me lede . All this make ye : Now let us fle ; The day cometh fast upon ; For , in my mynde , of all mankynde I love but you alone , D 3 1 Ver . 219 , above your ere . Prol . Ver , 223. the fame . Prol , 240 HE . Ver , 220 , above ...
... doth me lede . All this make ye : Now let us fle ; The day cometh fast upon ; For , in my mynde , of all mankynde I love but you alone , D 3 1 Ver . 219 , above your ere . Prol . Ver , 223. the fame . Prol , 240 HE . Ver , 220 , above ...
Page 64
... doth wry All contrary from myn entent . My lyff was lent me to on intent , Hytt is ny spent . Welcome fortune ! 15 But I ne went thus to be fhent , But fho hit ment , fuch is hur won , Ver . 7. in this . Roffi Hift . Ver . 15. went , i ...
... doth wry All contrary from myn entent . My lyff was lent me to on intent , Hytt is ny spent . Welcome fortune ! 15 But I ne went thus to be fhent , But fho hit ment , fuch is hur won , Ver . 7. in this . Roffi Hift . Ver . 15. went , i ...
Page 73
... doth caufe you moane ? 125 The damfell fcant wolde deigne a looke But faft fhe pricked on . Yet turn againe , thou faïre damsèlle , And greete thy queene from mee : 130 When bale is att hyeft , boote is nyest , Now helpe enoughe may bee ...
... doth caufe you moane ? 125 The damfell fcant wolde deigne a looke But faft fhe pricked on . Yet turn againe , thou faïre damsèlle , And greete thy queene from mee : 130 When bale is att hyeft , boote is nyest , Now helpe enoughe may bee ...
Page 76
... doth well . Forgive , forgive me , queene , madame , The fhort time I muft live . Nowe Christ forgive thee , Aldingar , As freely I forgive . 185 190 195 209 Here take thy queene , our king Harry'e , 205 And love her as thy life , For ...
... doth well . Forgive , forgive me , queene , madame , The fhort time I muft live . Nowe Christ forgive thee , Aldingar , As freely I forgive . 185 190 195 209 Here take thy queene , our king Harry'e , 205 And love her as thy life , For ...
Page 80
... doth hate the as I fuppofe , Bycause thou wait falfe to the redolent rofe . Synge , & c . Thou myghtest haue learned thy cloth to flocke , 40 Upon thy grefy fullers flocke ; Wherfore lay downe thy heade vpon this blocke . Synge , & c ...
... doth hate the as I fuppofe , Bycause thou wait falfe to the redolent rofe . Synge , & c . Thou myghtest haue learned thy cloth to flocke , 40 Upon thy grefy fullers flocke ; Wherfore lay downe thy heade vpon this blocke . Synge , & c ...
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Common terms and phrases
ancient awaye ballad beſt blind beggar bonny Braes of Yarrow brave bride copy daye Defire doth earl earl of Murray England faft faid fair Annet fame father fayd faye feems feen fene fhall fhee fhew fholde fight filke firft flaine folio fome fong fons foone forrow foul frae ftand ftanza ftill ftrong fubject fuch fweete fword gallant George Gascoigne gold grace hath heart heire of Linne Henry intitled John king Henrye king of Scots knight kyng kythe lady ladye lero Lilli little John lord luve Makyne Mary Ambree moft moſt muft muſt neir never noble perfon poem preferved prettye Befsee printed Prol queene quoth Rofamonde Rofe ſay Scotland ſeen ſhall ſhe ſhee ſhould Sir Andrew tell thee thefe therfore theſe thofe thouſand unto verfe whofe wold wyll
Popular passages
Page 325 - WHEN Love with unconfined wings Hovers within my gates, And my divine Althea brings To whisper at the grates — When I lie tangled in her hair And fettered to her eye, The birds that wanton in the air Know no such liberty.
Page 211 - He was a braw gallant, And he rid at the ring; And the bonny Earl of Murray, Oh he might have been a king! He was a braw gallant, And he play'd at the ba'; And the bonny Earl of Murray Was the flower among them a'.
Page 326 - With shriller throat shall sing The sweetness, mercy, majesty, And glories of my King; When I shall voice aloud how good He is, how great should be, 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.
Page 302 - The following is chiefly printed from an ancient black-letter copy to "the tune of Deny down." AN ancient story He tell you anon Of a notable prince, that was called King John ; And he ruled England with maine and with might, For he did great wrong, and maintein'd little right.
Page 370 - Had been better far than dying Of a grieved and broken heart. "Unrepining at thy glory, Thy successful arms we hail; But remember our sad story, And let Hosier's wrongs prevail. Sent in this foul clime to languish, Think what thousands fell in vain, Wasted with disease...
Page 319 - THE OLD AND YOUNG COURTIER. ANONYMOUS. AN old song made by an aged old pate, Of an old worshipful gentleman, who had a great estate, That kept a brave old house at a bountiful rate, And an old porter to relieve the poor at his gate ; Like an old courtier of the queen's, And the queen's old courtier.
Page 138 - The like was never scene. Most curiously that bower was built Of stone and timber strong, An hundered and fifty doors Did to this bower belong : And they so cunninglye contriv'd With turnings round about, That none but with a clue of thread, Could enter in or out.
Page 319 - With an old study fill'd full of learned old books, With an old reverend chaplain, you might know him by his looks, With an old buttery hatch worn quite off the hooks, And an old kitchen, that maintain'd half a dozen old cooks ; Like an old courtier, &c.
Page 362 - And lay him on the Braes of Yarrow. Then build, then build, ye sisters sisters sad, Ye sisters sad, his tomb with sorrow, And weep around in waeful wise, His helpless fate on the Braes of Yarrow.
Page 298 - Lord Thomas was buried without kirkwa, Fair Annet within the quiere, And o the tane thair grew a birk, The other a bonny briere. And ay they grew, and ay they threw, As they wad faine be neare; And by this ye may ken right weil 'They were twa luvers deare.