Reliques of ancient English poetry: consisting of old heroic ballads, songs, and other pieces of our earlier poets; together with some few of later date, Band 1
Printed for F.C. and J. Rivington, 1812
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A very famous collection that contributed largely to the fashion for balads and ultimately t the Romantic movement. It is a mixed bag, some genuinely early, some not, but important for its influence. Vollständige Rezension lesen
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Adam Bell agayne ancient Anglo-Saxon appears archar awaye ballad Bards called castle character Cloudesle Comedy composed copy curious daughter daye dear doth Douglas Earl edition Editor Edom English fair fast fayre folio French Garland Geoffrey of Monmouth greene willow hand harp Harper hart hath Henry Hist honour Ibid John king knight kyng Estmere lady ladye lord lordis mentioned Minstrels mither myght never noble Norman Norman Conquest Northumberland Otterbourn owre passage Patrick Spence Percy play poem poet Poetry prince printed quoth reader reign Robin Hood Romance ryde Saxon sayd saye Scotland Scots Scottish Shakespeare shee sing slayne song sonnes stanzas swordes syr Cauline thee ther theyr thou thow thre unto Warton whan willow wold word writers wyfe wyll Wyllyam Wyth yemen yere zour
Seite cxvi - I never heard the old song of Percy and Douglas that I found not my heart moved more than with a trumpet...
Seite 341 - Who God doth late and early pray, More of his grace than gifts to lend, And entertains the harmless day, With a religious book or friend. This man is freed from servile bands Of hope to rise, or fear to fall ; Lord of himself, though not of lands, And having nothing, yet hath all.
Seite 277 - And now with me my countrymen, Your courage forth advance ; For never was there champion yet, In Scotland or in France, That ever did on horseback come, But if my hap it were, I durst encounter man for man, With him to break a spear." Earl Douglas on his milk-white steed, Most like a baron bold, Rode foremost of his company, Whose armour shone like gold.
Seite 240 - Thy gowns, thy shoes, thy beds of roses, Thy cap, thy kirtle, and thy posies, Soon break, soon wither, soon forgotten, In folly ripe, in reason rotten.
Seite 313 - Content I live, this is my stay; I seek no more than may suffice; I press to bear no haughty sway; Look, what I lack my mind supplies. Lo, thus I triumph like a king, Content with that my mind doth bring.
Seite 352 - O SOLITUDE, romantic maid ! Whether by nodding towers you tread, Or haunt the desert's trackless gloom, Or hover o'er the yawning tomb, Or climb the Andes' clifted side, Or by the Nile's coy source abide, Or, starting from your half-year's sleep, From Hecla view the thawing deep, Or, at the purple dawn of day, Tadmor's marble waste survey ; You, recluse, again I woo, And again your steps pursue.
Seite 290 - Some men with swords may reap the field, And plant fresh laurels where they kill: But their strong nerves at last must yield; They tame but one another still: Early or late They stoop to fate, And must give up their murmuring breath, When they, pale captives, creep to death. The garlands wither on your brow, Then boast no more your mighty deeds; Upon Death's purple altar now See, where the victor-victim bleeds: Your heads must come To the cold tomb; Only the actions of the just Smell sweet, and blossom...
Seite 258 - Crabbed age and youth Cannot live together ; Youth is full of pleasance, Age is full of care: Youth like summer morn, Age like winter weather ; Youth like summer brave, Age like winter bare. Youth is full of sport, Age's breath is short, Youth is nimble, age is lame : Youth is hot and bold, Age is weak and cold ; Youth is wild, and age is tame.
Seite 289 - The glories of our blood and state Are shadows, not substantial things ; There is no armour against fate ; Death lays his icy hand on kings : Sceptre and crown Must tumble down, And in the dust be equal made With the poor crooked scythe and spade.