Early English Lyrics: Amorous, Divine, Moral & Trivial

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Sidgwick & Jackson, Limited, 1926 - 384 pagina's
 

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Pagina 229 - I cannot eat but little meat, My stomach is not good ; But sure I think, that I can drink With him that wears a hood...
Pagina 285 - Thou must be patient; we came crying hither. Thou know'st, the first time that we smell the air, We wawl, and cry: — I will preach to thee; mark me. Glo. Alack, alack the day ! Lear. When we are born, we cry, that we are come To this great stage of fools...
Pagina 4 - Sumer is icumen in, Lhude sing cuccu ! Groweth sed, and bloweth med, And springth the wude nu, Sing cuccu ! " Awe bleteth after lomb, Lhouth after calve cu ; Bulluc sterteth, bucke verteth, Murie sing cuccu ! "Cuccu, cuccu, well singes thu, cuccu, Ne swik thu naver nu ; Sing, cuccu, nu, sing, cuccu, Sing, cuccu, sing, cuccu, nu !
Pagina 52 - Merry Margaret As midsummer flower, Gentle as falcon Or hawk of the tower: With solace and gladness, Much mirth and no madness, All good and no badness; So joyously, So maidenly, So womanly Her demeaning In every thing, Far, far passing, That I can indite, Or suffice to write Of Merry Margaret As midsummer flower, Gentle as falcon Or hawk of the tower.
Pagina 229 - I love no roast but a nut-brown toast, And a crab laid in the 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 wrapped and thoroughly lapped Of jolly good ale and old.
Pagina 231 - Now let them drink till they nod and wink, Even as good fellows should do ; They shall not miss to have the bliss Good ale doth bring men to ; And all poor souls that have...
Pagina 69 - O western wind, when wilt thou blow, That the small rain down can rain? Christ, that my love were in my arms, And I in my bed again!
Pagina 22 - I brenne ay in an amorous plesaunce. Do what you list, I wil your thral be founde, Thogh ye to me ne do no daliaunce.
Pagina 279 - Welle was hire mete, wat was hire mete? The primerole ant the violet.
Pagina 172 - Stryve noght, as doth the crokke with the wal. Daunte thy-self, that dauntest otheres dede; And trouthe shal delivere, hit is no drede.

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