Songs from the DramatistsRobert Bell J. W. Parker, 1854 - 268 |
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Strona 36
... fire , A little bread shall do me stead , Much bread I not desire . No frost nor snow , no wind , I trow , Can hurt me if I wold , I am so wrapt , and throwly * lapt , Of jolly good ale and old . Back and side go bare , & c . And Tyb my ...
... fire , A little bread shall do me stead , Much bread I not desire . No frost nor snow , no wind , I trow , Can hurt me if I wold , I am so wrapt , and throwly * lapt , Of jolly good ale and old . Back and side go bare , & c . And Tyb my ...
Strona 52
... fires to roast ye ; Then soberly let us be led . your head . Const . Come , my brown bills , we'll roar , Bounce loud at tavern door . Omnes . And in the morning steal all to bed . * The watchmen were so called from the pole they ...
... fires to roast ye ; Then soberly let us be led . your head . Const . Come , my brown bills , we'll roar , Bounce loud at tavern door . Omnes . And in the morning steal all to bed . * The watchmen were so called from the pole they ...
Strona 53
... Is any one undone by fire , And turned to ashes by desire ? Did ever any lady weep , Being cheated of her golden sleep * Sports , dances , pastimes . Stolen by sick thoughts ? -the pirate's found , And JOHN LYLY . 53 GALATHEA.
... Is any one undone by fire , And turned to ashes by desire ? Did ever any lady weep , Being cheated of her golden sleep * Sports , dances , pastimes . Stolen by sick thoughts ? -the pirate's found , And JOHN LYLY . 53 GALATHEA.
Strona 55
... fire , Laurels bind about his lyre , A Daphnean coronet for his head , The Muses dance about his bed ; When on his ravishing lute he plays , Strew his temple round with bays . Io Pæans let us sing To the glittering Delian king . MOTHER ...
... fire , Laurels bind about his lyre , A Daphnean coronet for his head , The Muses dance about his bed ; When on his ravishing lute he plays , Strew his temple round with bays . Io Pæans let us sing To the glittering Delian king . MOTHER ...
Strona 56
... fire . Io Bacchus ! at thy table , Make us of thy reeling rabble . 0 CUPID . CUPID ! monarch over kings , Wherefore hast thou feet and wings ? Is it to show how swift thou art , When thou woundest a tender heart ? Thy wings being ...
... fire . Io Bacchus ! at thy table , Make us of thy reeling rabble . 0 CUPID . CUPID ! monarch over kings , Wherefore hast thou feet and wings ? Is it to show how swift thou art , When thou woundest a tender heart ? Thy wings being ...
Inne wydania - Wyświetl wszystko
Kluczowe wyrazy i wyrażenia
Ascribed to Fletcher ballad Bartholomew Fair beauty Ben Jonson birds blessed boys breath bright charm chaste comedy Cuckoo Cupid dance death dost doth DRAMATISTS drink Dyce edition eyes fair fairy fear fire flowers fool friends give golden grace green Hark hast hath head heart heaven Hecate heigh Here's Heywood hither honour Hymen JASPER MAYNE king kiss lady laugh live love's lovers lullaby lusty maid merrily merry Middleton ne'er never NICHOLAS UDALL night nonny nymph pain Patient Grissell PHILIP MASSINGER pity play poet pretty purse queen Rosalind round Samela Satyr Shakespeare shepherds shew shine sigh sing sleep song sorrow soul spring sweet tears tell thee thine thing Thomas Heywood THOMAS MIDDLETON Thou art Trilla unto verses wanton weep Whilst William Cartwright WILLIAM HABINGTON WILLIAM ROWLEY willow wind wine Witch youth
Popularne fragmenty
Strona 105 - FEAR no more the heat o' the sun, Nor the furious winter's rages; Thou thy worldly task hast done, Home art gone, and ta'en thy wages; Golden lads and girls all must, As chimney-sweepers, come to dust. Fear no more the frown o...
Strona 212 - Why so pale and wan, fond lover? Prithee, why so pale? Will, when looking well can't move her, Looking ill prevail? Prithee, why so pale?
Strona 89 - Come away, come away, death, And in sad cypress let me be laid ; Fly away, fly away, breath ; I am slain by a fair cruel maid. My shroud of white, stuck all with yew, O, prepare it ! My part of death, no one so true Did share it.
Strona 94 - It was a lover and his lass, With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino, That o'er the green corn-field did pass In the spring time, the only pretty ring time, When birds do sing, hey ding a ding, ding: Sweet lovers love the spring.
Strona 89 - When that I was and a little tiny boy, With hey, ho, the wind and the rain; A foolish thing was but a toy, For the rain it raineth every day.
Strona 81 - When shepherds pipe on oaten straws And merry larks are ploughmen's clocks, When turtles tread, and rooks, and daws, And maidens bleach their summer smocks The cuckoo then, on every tree, Mocks married men; for thus sings he, Cuckoo; Cuckoo, cuckoo: O word of fear, Unpleasing to a married ear!
Strona 102 - He is dead and gone, lady, He is dead and gone, At his head a grass-green turf, At his heels a stone.
Strona 81 - Tu-whit, tu-who ! a merry note, While greasy Joan doth keel the pot. When all aloud the wind doth blow, And coughing drowns the parson's saw, And birds sit brooding in the snow, And Marian's nose looks red and raw, When roasted crabs hiss in the bowl, Then nightly sings the staring owl, Tu-whit, tu-who...
Strona 98 - Full fathom five thy father lies; Of his bones are coral made; Those are pearls that were his eyes: Nothing of him that doth fade, But doth suffer a sea-change Into something rich and strange. Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell : Hark! now I hear them, — ding-dong, bell.
Strona 87 - Sigh, no more, ladies, sigh no more, Men were deceivers ever ; One foot in sea, and one on shore ; To one thing constant never : Then sigh not so, But let them go, And be you blithe and bonny ; Converting all your sounds of woe Into Hey nonny, nonny.