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Amyntor arms art thou Aurelius Baron behold beneath bliss bosom brave breast bridal bed bride bright Brinkburn Priory castle cheek cheer clan Ross cold Columbel courser cried Cumnor dame dead dear doth dread dreary Earl Earl Douglas Earl Percy Edwy eyes Fair Lady fate fear feast fight fled Flower of Northumberland Follow my love fond gallant grave grief hall hand hapless haste hath heard heart Heav'n hill holy horn King L’Allegro lady Lord loud lov’d maid maiden merrily morn ne'er noble o'er pale Percy pilgrim-boy pow'r Prince quoth rage rais'd Red-cross Knight Richard Plantagenet round rove Scotish Scotland Scots seem'd sigh sigh'd sight slain soft soon soul spear Squire stay steed stood stream sung sweet sword tears thee thine thou shalt thrice true-love warder Warkworth ween weep wend wild WILLIAM JULIUS MICKLE wind young youth
Seite 67 - By whom this is denied." Then stepped a gallant squire forth, Witherington was his name, Who said, " I would not have it told To Henry, our king, for shame, That e'er my captain fought on foot, And I stood looking on. You...
Seite 171 - And art thou dead, thou gentle youth ! And art thou dead and gone ! And didst thou die for love of me ? Break, cruel heart of stone ! " " O weep not, lady, weep not so ; Some ghostly comfort seek : Let not vain sorrow rive thy heart, Nor tears bedew thy cheek.
Seite 8 - It is not for myself I weep, Nor for myself I fear ; But for my dear and only friend, Who lately left me here: And while some sheltering bower he sought Within this lonely wood, Ah ! sore I fear his wandering feet Have slipt in yonder flood. O ! trust in heaven, the Hermit said, And to my cell repair; Doubt not but I shall find thy friend, And ease thee of thy care.
Seite 67 - They clos'd full fast on every side, No slackness there was found ; And many a gallant gentleman Lay gasping on the ground.
Seite 166 - Now nought was heard beneath the skies, The sounds of busy life were still, Save an unhappy lady's sighs, That issued from that lonely pile.
Seite 168 - 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 69 - The noble earl was slain. He had a bow bent in his hand, Made of a trusty tree ; An arrow of a cloth-yard long Up to the head drew he...
Seite 70 - And with Earl Douglas there was slain Sir Hugh Montgomery ; Sir Charles Carrel, that from the field One foot would never fly. Sir Charles Murray of Ratcliff, too, His sister's son was he ; Sir David Lamb, so well esteem'd Yet saved could not be.
Seite 173 - But haply, for my year of grace Is not yet past away, Might I still hope to win thy love, No longer would I stay." " Now farewell grief, and welcome joy Once more unto my heart ; For since I have found thee, lovely youth, We never more will part.