Early English Poetry, Ballads, and Popular Literature of the Middle Ages, Volume 13Percy Society, 1844 - English literature |
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Page xvii
... mourning than the Amhara ; and some , instead of making mourning cloths , wear their cloth until it is entirely black with dirt , and this serves them for xvii.
... mourning than the Amhara ; and some , instead of making mourning cloths , wear their cloth until it is entirely black with dirt , and this serves them for xvii.
Page xviii
Percy Society. entirely black with dirt , and this serves them for a mourning suit . They in general go into mourn- ing for sixty days . Some wear a piece of blue Surat cloth , such as the merchants bring from the East ; but the true ...
Percy Society. entirely black with dirt , and this serves them for a mourning suit . They in general go into mourn- ing for sixty days . Some wear a piece of blue Surat cloth , such as the merchants bring from the East ; but the true ...
Page xli
... mourning , and his spirit will sleep and be at rest ! -- Plant the shamrock and wild fir near his head , that strangers might know who is the fallen ! Soon again will keen be heard on the moun- tain , for before the cold sod is clodded ...
... mourning , and his spirit will sleep and be at rest ! -- Plant the shamrock and wild fir near his head , that strangers might know who is the fallen ! Soon again will keen be heard on the moun- tain , for before the cold sod is clodded ...
Page 19
... mourn For the fall of the brave . On stormy Slieve Mist Spread the cry far and wide , The point of this tongue of land , which is about four miles across , with the Blasket Islands , which lie immediately off it , were held by the ...
... mourn For the fall of the brave . On stormy Slieve Mist Spread the cry far and wide , The point of this tongue of land , which is about four miles across , with the Blasket Islands , which lie immediately off it , were held by the ...
Page 22
... the dawn ; — your death have put off All their holiday gear , And in deep weeds of silk Mourning rivals appear . O wild woman of tears ! Who with musical hands , From your bright golden hair Has combed out the long 22 SPECIMENS OF THE KEEN.
... the dawn ; — your death have put off All their holiday gear , And in deep weeds of silk Mourning rivals appear . O wild woman of tears ! Who with musical hands , From your bright golden hair Has combed out the long 22 SPECIMENS OF THE KEEN.
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Common terms and phrases
Adew appears BALLADS Banshee beauty blessed BOOK OF SONGS brother Callanan Carrigaline cold Corpus Christi College county of Cork dark darling daughter dead death delight dere derlyng Do-well DOWLAND'S Dublin Dunmanway earth edited Editor England England's Helicon English eyes fair father feare feeling fire flowers grace grief hand hart hath heart heaven Innisfail Irish Irish poetry John Dowland John Fitzgerald Keating keen keeners Knight of Glin Knight of Kerry knytte lament Leary Lirum Lord MADRIGALS mirth morning Morty Oge mourning never nimphes o'er original Percy Society PETER CUNNINGHAM poem poetry poor priest printed Richard Cox Say-well shew sigh sing Sir Thomas Maude sorrow soul South of Ireland stanza sweet teares thee Thomas thou translation Twas verses voice Walsh weeping wild WILLIAM WILLIAM CHAPPELL Witte woman words wyll Wytte
Popular passages
Page 49 - Sleep is a reconciling, A rest that peace begets; Doth not the sun rise smiling When fair at even he sets? Rest you then, rest, sad eyes ! Melt not in weeping, While she lies sleeping Softly, now softly lies Sleeping.
Page 99 - HOW hard is my fortune. And vain my repining ! The strong rope of fate For this young neck is twining. My strength is departed, My cheek sunk and sallow, While I languish in chains In the gaol of Clonmala.' No boy in the village Was ever yet milder. I'd play with a child, And my sport would be wilder ; I'd dance without tiring From morning till even, And the goal-ball I'd strike To the lightning of heaven. At my bed-foot decaying, My hurlbat is lying ; Thro...
Page 58 - The voice of her music No longer is sprightly ; No more to her maidens The light dance is dear, Since the death of our darling O'Sullivan Bear. Scully ! thou false one You basely betrayed him ; In his strong hour of need When thy right hand should aid him ; He fed thee ; — he clad thee ; You had all could delight thee ; You left him ; — you sold him ; — May heaven requite thee...
Page 36 - Cupid's rival is, There miracles are seen of his. If Cynthia crave her ring of me, I blot her name out of the tree. If doubt do darken things held dear, Then well fare nothing once a year ! For many run, but one must win ; Fools, only, hedge the cuckoo in.
Page 35 - Cynthia's praise, I wear her rings on holidays, In every tree I write her name, And every day I read the same. Where honour Cupid's rival is There miracles are seen of his. If Cynthia crave her ring of me, I blot her name out of the tree ; If doubt do darken things held dear, Then well-fare nothing once a year ; For many run but one must win, Fools only hedge the cuckoo in.
Page 59 - Through ocean to trail him, Like a fish after slaughter— Tis therefore I wail him. Long may the curse Of his people pursue them; Scully, that sold him. And soldier that slew him! One glimpse of heaven's light May they see never! May the hearthstone of hell Be their best bed for ever!
Page 32 - gainst time and age hath ever spurn'd, But spurn'd in vain ; youth waneth by increasing : Beauty, strength, youth are flowers but fading seen; Duty, faith, love are roots, and ever green. His helmet now shall make a hive for bees ; And, lovers...
Page 4 - For the stranger now rules in the land of the Gael. Where, where are the woods that oft rung to your cheer, Where you waked the wild chase of the wolf and the deer? Can those dark heights, with ramparts all frowning and riven, Be the hills where your forests wav'd brightly in heaven? O bondsmen of Egypt, no Moses appears To light your dark steps thro
Page 16 - IN pride of May The feelds are gay, The birds do sweetly sing : So nature would That all things should With joy begin the Spring. Fa, la, la. Then, lady deere, Doe you appeare, In beautie like the Spring : I well dare say, The birds that day, More cheerfully will sing. Fa, la, la.
Page 43 - I saw my Lady weep, And Sorrow proud to be advanced so In those fair eyes where all perfections keep. Her face was full of woe, But such a woe (believe me) as wins more hearts Than Mirth can do with her enticing parts. Sorrow was there made fair, And Passion wise; tears a delightful thing; Silence beyond all speech a wisdom rare; She made her sighs to sing, And all things with so sweet a sadness move As made my heart at once both grieve and love. O fairer than...