Old Ballads: Historical and Narrative, with Some of Modern Date, Band 4

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R. H. Evans, 1810
 

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Seite 90 - The dews of summer night did fall, The moon, sweet regent of the sky, Silvered the walls of Cumnor Hall, And many an oak that grew thereby.
Seite 92 - Mong rural beauties I was one, Among the fields wild flowers are fair; Some country swain might me have won, And thought my beauty passing rare. "But, Leicester, (or I much am wrong,) Or 'tis not beauty lures thy vows; Rather ambition's gilded crown Makes thee forget thy humble spouse. "Then, Leicester, why, again I plead, (The injured surely may repine,)— Why didst thou wed a country maid, When some fair princess might be thine?
Seite 93 - s their estate; To smile for joy than sigh for woe — To be content — than to be great. " How far less blest am I than them — Daily to pine and waste with care! Like the poor plant, that, from its stem Divided, feels the chilling air. " Nor, cruel Earl ! can I enjoy The humble charms of solitude; Your minions proud my peace destroy, By sullen frowns or pratings rude. " Last night, as sad I chanced to stray, The village death-bell smote my ear; They winked aside, and seemed to say, ' Countess,...
Seite 253 - my simple store, Dried fruits, and milk, and curds ;" And spreading all upon the board, Invites with kindly words. " Thanks, father, for thy bounteous fare ;" The youthful couple say : Then freely ate, and made good cheer, And talk'd their cares away.
Seite 94 - And now, while happy peasants sleep, Here I sit lonely and forlorn ; No one to soothe me as I weep, Save Philomel on yonder thorn. "My spirits flag — my hopes decay — Still that dread death-bell smites my ear, And many a boding seems to say, ' Countess, prepare, thy end is near...
Seite 357 - I'll never love thee more. As Alexander I will reign, And I will reign alone ; My thoughts did evermore disdain A rival on my throne. He either fears his fate too much, Or his deserts are small, That dares not put it to the touch, To gain or lose it all.
Seite 94 - The village maids, with fearful glance, Avoid the ancient moss-grown wall ; Nor ever lead the merry dance Among the groves of Cumnor Hall. Full many a traveller oft hath sigh'd, And pensive wept the countess...
Seite 358 - I'll make thee glorious by my pen, And famous by my sword. I'll serve thee in such noble ways Was never heard before : I'll crown and deck thee all with bays, And love thee evermore.
Seite 50 - twas from a heart like stone. The blushing cheek speaks modest mind, The lips befitting words most kind, The eye does tempt to love's desire And seems to say " 'tis Cupid's fire ;" Yet all so fair but speak my moan, Sith nought doth say the heart of stone.
Seite 261 - Her cheek what blushes dyed, When fondly he besought her there To yield to be his bride ! — " Within this lonely hermitage There is a chapel meet ; Then grant, dear maid, my fond request, And make my bliss complete.

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