Nightingale Valley: A Collection, Including a Great Number of the Choicest Lyrics and Short Poems in the English LanguageBell and Daldy, 1860 - 288 Seiten |
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Seite 206
... Martinmas , IT When the wind blew shrill and cauld , Said Edom o ' Gordon to his men , " We maun draw to a hauld . " And whatna hauld sall we draw to , My merry men and me ? We will gae to the house of the Rodes , To see that fair ladye ...
... Martinmas , IT When the wind blew shrill and cauld , Said Edom o ' Gordon to his men , " We maun draw to a hauld . " And whatna hauld sall we draw to , My merry men and me ? We will gae to the house of the Rodes , To see that fair ladye ...
Seite 219
... Martinmas , When nights are lang and mirk , The carline wife's three sons cam ' hame , And their hats were o ' the birk . It neither grew in syke nor ditch , Nor yet in ony sheugh ; But at the gates o ' Paradise That birk grew fair ...
... Martinmas , When nights are lang and mirk , The carline wife's three sons cam ' hame , And their hats were o ' the birk . It neither grew in syke nor ditch , Nor yet in ony sheugh ; But at the gates o ' Paradise That birk grew fair ...
Seite 238
... Martinmas wind , when wilt thou blaw , And shake the green leaves off the tree ? O gentle death when wilt thou come ? For of my life I am wearie . ' Tis not the frost that freezes fell , Nor blawing snaw's inclemencie , " Tis not sic ...
... Martinmas wind , when wilt thou blaw , And shake the green leaves off the tree ? O gentle death when wilt thou come ? For of my life I am wearie . ' Tis not the frost that freezes fell , Nor blawing snaw's inclemencie , " Tis not sic ...
Seite 280
... Martinmas , her three sons come home ; the mother feasts all her house , then makes a wide bed for her three sons , and sits down by the bedside . But at cockcrow , when she has dropt asleep , these three , who are no living men , but ...
... Martinmas , her three sons come home ; the mother feasts all her house , then makes a wide bed for her three sons , and sits down by the bedside . But at cockcrow , when she has dropt asleep , these three , who are no living men , but ...
Seite 285
... Martinmas It is not beautie I demand It is the miller's daughter • It is the first mild day of March It little profits that an idle king 265 199 167 109 235 21 203 16 • 204 39 158 66 88 252 264 120 260 71 188 211 160 37 206 · 20 11 174 ...
... Martinmas It is not beautie I demand It is the miller's daughter • It is the first mild day of March It little profits that an idle king 265 199 167 109 235 21 203 16 • 204 39 158 66 88 252 264 120 260 71 188 211 160 37 206 · 20 11 174 ...
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Nightingale Valley: A Collection, Including a Great Number of the Choicest ... William Allingham Keine Leseprobe verfügbar - 2018 |
Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
Auld Robin Gray BALLAD bells bird bonnie bough bowers breast breath bright burning Busk chamber door cheek Clerk Saunders cold COLERIDGE dance dark dead dear death deep doth dream earth Edom Eugene Aram eyes fair fairy flowers frae Glen grave green grey hair hand happy HARTLEY COLERIDGE hath hear heart heaven heigh-ho hour kiss'd lady Lady Anne Lindsay lay a-thinking leaves light live look'd Lord Lord Randal loud lover melancholy merry mither morning mountain ne'er never Nevermore night o'er pale Quoth the raven Richard Lovelace river rose round sall seem'd shore sigh sing sleep smile soft song SONNET sorrow soul stars sweet tears tempests thee thine thou thought turn'd Twas unto verses violets wave weary weep wild WILLIAM ALLINGHAM WILLIAM BLAKE wind wings WORDSWORTH Yarrow
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 105 - Gleams that untravell'd world, whose margin fades For eve^r and for ever when I move. \j^ How dull it is to pause, to make an end, $> To rust unburnish'd, not to shine in use ! As tho
Seite 96 - TIGER! Tiger! burning bright In the forests of the night, What immortal hand or eye Could frame thy fearful symmetry? In what distant deeps or skies Burnt the fire of thine eyes? On what wings dare he aspire? What the hand dare seize the fire?
Seite 143 - Past the near meadows, over the still stream, Up the hillside; and now 'tis buried deep In the next valley-glades: Was it a vision, or a waking dream? Fled is that music: — Do I wake or sleep?
Seite 39 - I REMEMBER, I REMEMBER I REMEMBER, I remember The house where I was born, The little window where the sun Came peeping in at morn ; He never came a wink too soon, Nor brought too long a day, But now I often wish the night Had borne my breath away ! I remember, I remember...
Seite 85 - This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core; This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er, But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er She shall press, ah, nevermore! Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor. "Wretch...
Seite 142 - I cannot see what flowers are at my feet, Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs, But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet...
Seite 160 - IN Xanadu did Kubla Khan A stately pleasure-dome decree : Where Alph, the sacred river, ran Through caverns measureless to man Down to a sunless sea. So twice five miles of fertile ground With walls and towers were girdled round : And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree ; And here were forests ancient as the hills, Enfolding sunny spots of greenery.
Seite 63 - GATHER ye rosebuds while ye may, Old Time is still a-flying: And this same flower that smiles to-day, To-morrow will be dying. The glorious lamp of heaven, the sun, The higher he's a-getting; The sooner will his race be run, And nearer he's to setting. That age is best, which is the first, When youth and blood are warmer; But being spent, the worse, and worst Times still succeed the former. Then be not coy, but use your time, And while ye may, go marry: For having lost but once your prime, You may...
Seite 25 - Her mantle laps Over my lady's wrist too much,' or 'Paint Must never hope to reproduce the faint Half-flush that dies along her throat.
Seite 141 - O for a beaker full of the warm South, Full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene, With beaded bubbles winking at the brim, And purple-stained mouth; That I might drink, and leave the world unseen, And with thee fade away into the forest dim...