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Palgrave's Golden Treasury of Songs and Lyrics ...
Francis Turner Palgrave
Uten tilgangsbegrensning - 1901
Aeschylus alliteration ancient ballad Bard beautiful bonnie Book called century Collins comes Cowper dear death edition effect English epithet expression eyes fair feeling flowers follows give given golden Gray Gray's Greek green hand happy hear heart hour inspiration Italy John King Lady land language Latin leave less light lines lives look lyric Mary means Milton mind morn native Nature never night o'er once original Paradise Lost Penseroso perhaps pleasure poem poetic poetry poets Pope probably Queen reader refers rest round Scottish seems sense sewed shade Shakespeare sing sleep song soul sound Spring stanza stream sweet tear tell thee things thou thought Tovey trochaic turn verse Virgil wind wings Wordsworth writing written Yarrow
Side 48 - John Anderson my jo. John Anderson my jo, John, We clamb the hill thegither ; And mony a canty day, John, We've had wi' ane anither : Now we maun totter down, John, But hand in hand we'll go, And sleep thegither at the foot, John Anderson my jo.
Side 55 - How fleet is a glance of the mind ! Compared with the speed of its flight, The tempest itself lags behind, And the swift-winged arrows of light. When I think of my own native land, In a moment I seem to be there ; But alas ! recollection at hand Soon hurries me back to despair.
Side 29 - Love framed with Mirth a gay fantastic round ; Loose were her tresses seen, her zone unbound : And he, amidst his frolic play, As if he would the charming air repay, Shook thousand odours from his dewy wings.
Side 98 - YE banks and braes o' bonnie Doon, How can ye bloom sae fresh and fair; How can ye chant, ye little birds, And I sae weary, fu' o
Side 16 - It was not in the battle; No tempest gave the shock ; She sprang no fatal leak, She ran upon no rock. His sword was in its sheath, His fingers held the pen, When Kempenfelt went down With twice four hundred men.
Side 66 - With store of ladies, whose bright eyes Rain influence, and judge the prize Of wit or arms, while both contend To win her grace whom all commend.
Side 42 - As fair art thou, my bonnie lass, So deep in luve am I, And I will luve thee still, my dear, Till a' the seas gang dry. Till a" the seas gang dry, my dear, And the rocks melt wi
Side 33 - WEE, sleekit, cow'rin, tim'rous beastie, O, what a panic's in thy breastie ! Thou need na start awa sae hasty, Wi...