Lays of the minnesingers or German troubadours of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries [ed. by E. Taylor.].

Voorkant
Edgar Taylor
Longman, Hurst, Rees, Orme, Brown and Green, 1825 - 326 pagina's
 

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Pagina 39 - Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away. For, lo, the winter is past, The rain is over and gone ; The flowers appear on the earth ; The time of the singing of birds is come, And the voice of the turtle is heard in our land ; The fig tree putteth forth her green figs, And the vines with the tender grape give a good smell. Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away.
Pagina 156 - In a snowy vest, There grass is growing, With dewdrops glowing, And flowers are seen On beds so green. All down in the grove, Around, above, Sweet music floats ; As now loudly vying, Now softly sighing, The nightingale 's plying Her tuneful notes, And joyous at spring Her companions sing.
Pagina 166 - Hath banished care, finds many a joy: And I too would be gay, Were the load of pining care away; Were my lady kind, my soul were light, — Joy crowning joy would raise its flight. . . The flowers, leaves, hills, the vale, and mead. And May with all its light...
Pagina 170 - WHO would summer pleasures try, Let him to the meadows hie. O'er the mountain, in the vale, Gladsome sounds and sights prevail : In the fields fresh flowers are springing. In the boughs new carols singing, Richly in sweet harmony There the birds new music ply. This is all thine own, sweet May ! As thy softer breezes play, Snow and frost-work melt away. Old and young, come forth ! for ye Winter-bound again are free ; Up ! ye shall not grieve again. Look upon that verdant plain, Its gloomy robe no...
Pagina 159 - she cried, " Who can fly where he list, And can choose in the forest The tree he loves best ! " Thus, too, had I chosen One knight for mine own, Him my eye had selected, Him prized I alone : But other fair ladies Have envied my joy , And why ? for I sought not Their bliss to destroy. " As to thee, lovely summer, Returns the birds...
Pagina 237 - OJ how sweet the breeze of April Breathing soft, as May draws near, While through nights serene and gentle Songs of gladness meet the ear. Every bird his well-known language Warbling in the morning's pride, Revelling on in joy and gladness By his happy partner's side...
Pagina 147 - WouLD I the lofty spirit melt Of that proud dame who dwells so high, Kind Heaven must aid me, or unfelt By her will be its agony. Joy in my soul no place can find : As well might I a suitor be To thunderbolts, as hope her mind Will turn in softer mood to me. Those cheeks are beautiful, are bright As the red rose with dewdrops graced; And faultless is the lovely light Of those dear eyes, that, on me placed, Pierce to my very heart, and fill My soul with love's consuming fires, While passion burns...
Pagina 231 - aid " is echoing loud ; And there on the earth the lowly and proud In the foss together lie ; And yonder is piled the mangled heap Of the brave that scaled the trench's steep.
Pagina 141 - O'er the laughing hedge-rows' side She hath spread her treasures wide ; She is in the greenwood shade, Where the nightingale hath made Every branch and every tree Ring with her sweet melody...
Pagina 137 - 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 !

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