Reliques of ancient English poetry, by T. Percy. Repr. entire from the author's last ed. With memoir and critical dissertation, by G. Gilfillan

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Página 259 - Enlarged winds, that curl the flood, Know no such liberty. Stone walls do not a prison make, Nor iron bars a cage; Minds innocent and quiet take That for an hermitage; If I have freedom in my love And in my soul am free, Angels alone, that soar above, Enjoy such liberty.
Página 213 - 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.
Página 251 - You violets that first appear, By your pure purple mantles known Like the proud virgins of the year, As if the spring were all your own; What are you when the rose is blown ? So, when my mistress shall be seen In form and beauty of her mind, By virtue first, then choice, a Queen, Tell me, if she were not design'd Th' eclipse and glory of her kind.
Página 252 - An old song, made by an aged old pate, Of an old worshipful gentleman who had a great estate, That kept a brave old house at a bountiful rate, And an old porter to relieve the poor at his gate...
Página 171 - I bade you bring him wi' you, But forbade you him to slay. He was a braw gallant, And he rid at the ring ; And the bonny Earl of Murray, Oh ! he might hae been a king. He was a braw gallant, And he play'd at the ba' ; And the bonny Earl of Murray, Was the flower amang them a'.
Página 296 - Flows Yarrow sweet ? as sweet, as sweet flows Tweed, As green its grass, its gowan as yellow, As sweet smells on its braes the birk, The apple frae the rock as mellow. Fair was thy...
Página 180 - For seven hours to all men's view This fight endured sore, Until our men so feeble grew That they could fight no more ; And then upon dead horses Full savourly they eat, And drank the puddle water ; They could no better get.
Página 279 - 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?
Página 251 - You meaner beauties of the night, That poorly satisfy our eyes More by your number than your light ; You common people of the skies ; What are you when the moon shall rise?
Página 183 - A gentleman of Wales, a knight of Cales, And a laird of the North country ; But a yeoman of Kent with his yearly rent Will buy them out all three.

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