A separate issue of part of The entertainer's song book ed. by J.E.CarpenterJoseph Edwards Carpenter 1867 |
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Página 27
... sing they ad libit , The Loom , or the Plough , or the Sail ; Then a votive lay let me contribute , The Duster , the Broom , and the Pail . The Duster , the robe of a Duchess Might have formed ; and be useful at last : The Broom , too ...
... sing they ad libit , The Loom , or the Plough , or the Sail ; Then a votive lay let me contribute , The Duster , the Broom , and the Pail . The Duster , the robe of a Duchess Might have formed ; and be useful at last : The Broom , too ...
Página 50
... sing sweetly at the parties , while the ladies laugh and chat ; And the man who play'd upon his chin is passé I sup- pose , So try and find a gentleman who plays upon his nose . Send half a dozen authors , for they help to fill a rout ...
... sing sweetly at the parties , while the ladies laugh and chat ; And the man who play'd upon his chin is passé I sup- pose , So try and find a gentleman who plays upon his nose . Send half a dozen authors , for they help to fill a rout ...
Página 51
Joseph Edwards Carpenter. Oh ! if you send a singer , he must sing without a throat ! Oh ! if you send a player , he must harp upon one note ! I must have something marvellous , the marvel makes the man ; What is London's last new lion ...
Joseph Edwards Carpenter. Oh ! if you send a singer , he must sing without a throat ! Oh ! if you send a player , he must harp upon one note ! I must have something marvellous , the marvel makes the man ; What is London's last new lion ...
Página 67
... ( Sings . ) - Meet me by moonlight alone , And then I will tell you a tale , Should be told by the moonlight alone , In the grove at the end of the vale . Oh , I thought no one like my dear Caroline Freeling , For beauty and talent and ...
... ( Sings . ) - Meet me by moonlight alone , And then I will tell you a tale , Should be told by the moonlight alone , In the grove at the end of the vale . Oh , I thought no one like my dear Caroline Freeling , For beauty and talent and ...
Página 74
... ll leather them all , But I'll first sing the praises of darling Neddeen ! Neddeen , in the town of Keamare , in Kerry , the property of the Marquis of Lansdowne . On the face of this earth ' tis the most 74 THE ENTERTAINER'S SONG BOOK .
... ll leather them all , But I'll first sing the praises of darling Neddeen ! Neddeen , in the town of Keamare , in Kerry , the property of the Marquis of Lansdowne . On the face of this earth ' tis the most 74 THE ENTERTAINER'S SONG BOOK .
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A Separate Issue of Part of the Entertainer's Song Book Ed. by J.E.Carpenter Joseph Edwards Carpenter No hay ninguna vista previa disponible - 2016 |
Términos y frases comunes
beautiful beer bird blow blue Bow Bells breeze bright bumpty CHARLES DIBDIN charms cried D'Almaine D'ye give dance dear Ditto doctor dogs'-meat door dreams drink ev'ry eyes fair fairy bower feel flowers Fol de rol folks fond hear heart Heigho J. E. CARPENTER Jack Jack Brown JAMES BRUTON Jessie McCree King ladies land light live look look'd Madame Tussaud's maid married Mary Miss Molly Malone morning Music ne'er never night Novello & Co o'er once Otaheite play poor Port Wine pretty reynard the fox rose round rushlight sail sigh sing smile song soon soss-i-gis sure Susian sweet sweetheart swell tarnation tears tell thee there's THOMAS HUDSON thou thought Tol lol Tooral Tune Twas Venice preserved wery pekooliar Widow Jones wife wind wine young
Pasajes populares
Página 65 - I REMEMBER, I REMEMBER I REMEMBER, I remember The house where I was born, The little window where the sun Came peeping in at morn ; He never came a wink too soon, Nor brought too long a day, But now I often wish the night Had borne my breath away...
Página 63 - How sleep the brave who sink to rest, By all their country's wishes blest ! When Spring, with dewy fingers cold, Returns to deck their hallowed mould, She there shall dress a sweeter sod Than Fancy's feet have ever trod.
Página 65 - I remember, I remember, Where I was used to swing; And thought the air must rush as fresh To swallows on the wing: My spirit flew in feathers then, That is so heavy now, And summer pools could hardly cool The fever on my brow!
Página 83 - Shall I compare thee to a summer's day ? Thou art more lovely and more temperate: Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, And summer's lease hath all too short a date...
Página 91 - Fair daffodils, we weep to see You haste away so soon: As yet the early-rising sun Has not attained his noon. Stay, stay, Until the hasting day Has run But to the evensong; And, having prayed together, we Will go with you along. » We have short time to stay as you; We have as short a spring; As quick a growth to meet decay, As you or anything. We die, As your hours do, and dry Away Like to the summer's rain; Or as the pearls of morning's dew, Ne'er to be found again.
Página 134 - One by one the sands are flowing, One by one the moments fall; Some are coming, some are going; Do not strive to grasp them all. One by one thy duties wait thee, Let thy whole strength go to each, Let no future dreams elate thee, Learn thou first what these can teach.
Página 18 - When the lamp is shattered The light in the dust lies dead — When the cloud is scattered, The rainbow's glory is shed. When the lute is broken, Sweet tones are remembered not; When the lips have spoken, Loved accents are soon forgot. As music and splendour Survive not the lamp and the lute, The heart's echoes render No song when the spirit is mute...
Página 2 - Philomel, with melody Sing in our sweet lullaby ; Lulla, lulla, lullaby, lulla, lulla, lullaby : Never harm, Nor spell nor charm, Come our lovely lady nigh ; So, good night, with lullaby.
Página 80 - OLD King Cole was a merry old soul, And a merry old soul was he; He called for his pipe, and he called for his bowl, And he called for his fiddlers three.
Página 2 - A weary lot is thine, fair maid, A weary lot is thine ! To pull the thorn thy brow to braid, And press the rue for wine! A lightsome eye, a soldier's mien, A feather of the blue, A doublet of the Lincoln green, — No more of me you knew, My love!