Old Ballads, Historical and Narrative, with Some of Modern Date;: Now First Collected, and Reprinted from Rare Copies and MSS. With Notes, Volumen4

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Thomas Evans
T. Evans, in the Strand., 1784 - 335 páginas

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Página 320 - That rofy cheek, that lily hand Would give thy poet more delight Than all Bocara's vaunted gold, Than all the gems of Samarcand. Boy, let yon * liquid ruby flow...
Página 286 - The lawyers to be fee'd At that time hardly knew ; For man with man agreed, When this old cap was new. No captain then...
Página 283 - The nobles of our land, Were much delighted then, To have at their command A crew of lusty men, Which by their coats were known, Of tawny, red, or blue, With crests on their sleeves shown, When this old cap was new.
Página 283 - And are not help'd by any; For charity waxeth cold, And love is found in few : This was not in time of old, When this old cap was new.
Página 257 - Now I have bought my lady's life," He to the moor did call ; " Then take her," quoth this wicked rogue, And down he let her fall. Which when her gallant lord did see, His senses all did fail ; Yet many sought to save his life, But nothing could prevail.
Página 252 - ... behind, His lord to be a hunting gone, Began to call to mind : " My master he did me correct, My fault not being great ; Now of his wife I'll be reveng'd, She shall not me intreat.
Página 258 - Then take her," quoth this wicked rogue, And down he let her fall. Which when her gallant lord did see, His senses all did fail ; Yet many sought to save his life, But nothing could prevail. When as the moor did see him dead, Then did he laugh amain At them who for their gallant lord And lady did complain : Quoth he, " I know you'll torture me, " If that you can me get, " But all your threats I do not fear,
Página 321 - Require the borrow'd gloss of art? Speak not of fate: ah! change the theme, And talk of odours, talk of wine, Talk of the flowers that round us bloom : Tis all a cloud, 'tis all a dream; To love and joy thy thoughts confine, Nor hope to pierce the sacred gloom.
Página 311 - Left to myself, abandon'd and betray'd, Too late I found, the wretched have no friend! E'en he amid the...
Página 321 - Each glance my tender breaft invades, And robs my wounded foul of reft, As Tartars feize their deftin'd prey. In vain with love our bofoms glow; Can all our tears, can all our fighs New luftre to thofe charms impart? Can cheeks where living rofes blow, Where nature fpreads her richeft...

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