Early English Poetry, Ballads, and Popular Literature of the Middle Ages, Volume 13Percy Society, 1844 - English literature |
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Page xviii
... true mourning suit of the people of rank is a new white cloth , first dyed yellow with waver , the wood of a tree which the monks use to dye their garments . When the cloth is dyed yellow , it is again buried in a black mud , common in ...
... true mourning suit of the people of rank is a new white cloth , first dyed yellow with waver , the wood of a tree which the monks use to dye their garments . When the cloth is dyed yellow , it is again buried in a black mud , common in ...
Page xxi
... true , perfectly true ; " and she then began reciting , or rather , murmuring , with a mo- notonous modulation of voice , about a dozen Irish verses , clapping her hands and rocking her body backwards and forwards between each verse . I ...
... true , perfectly true ; " and she then began reciting , or rather , murmuring , with a mo- notonous modulation of voice , about a dozen Irish verses , clapping her hands and rocking her body backwards and forwards between each verse . I ...
Page xxiv
... true representative of the expiring race of Bardic Ireland . This woman , whose name was Harrington , had come from the south - west part of the county of Cork . She led a wandering kind of life , travelling from cabin to cabin about ...
... true representative of the expiring race of Bardic Ireland . This woman , whose name was Harrington , had come from the south - west part of the county of Cork . She led a wandering kind of life , travelling from cabin to cabin about ...
Page lii
... true pathos of this ancient melody to see that it bore with undiminished effect so close a juxta- position with the real demonstration of genuine and unartificial grief ; indeed I fancied at times that some of them , even in the utmost ...
... true pathos of this ancient melody to see that it bore with undiminished effect so close a juxta- position with the real demonstration of genuine and unartificial grief ; indeed I fancied at times that some of them , even in the utmost ...
Page 32
... gold , My white - handed champion , My marshal so bold . My fierce - fighting bear ; My loud - sounding horn ; My fiery - mouthed dragon ; My own Goll Mac Morn ; My hero ; my lion ; My true lady's knight 32 SPECIMENS OF THE KEEN.
... gold , My white - handed champion , My marshal so bold . My fierce - fighting bear ; My loud - sounding horn ; My fiery - mouthed dragon ; My own Goll Mac Morn ; My hero ; my lion ; My true lady's knight 32 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...