Early English Poetry, Ballads, and Popular Literature of the Middle Ages: Specimens of lyric poetry, composed in England in the reign of Edward the FirstPercy Society, 1841 |
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Página 58
... moder hit seh that the by stod . Suete Jhesu , bryht ant shene , Y preye the thou here my bene , Thourh ernding of the hevene quene , That my bone be nou sene . Suete Jhesu , berne best , With ich hope habbe rest , Whether y be south ...
... moder hit seh that the by stod . Suete Jhesu , bryht ant shene , Y preye the thou here my bene , Thourh ernding of the hevene quene , That my bone be nou sene . Suete Jhesu , berne best , With ich hope habbe rest , Whether y be south ...
Página 62
... moder mylde , For love of thine childe , ernde us hevene lyht . Alas ! that y ne couthe turne to him my thoht , Ant cheosen him to lemmon , so duere he us hath y - boht , With woundes deope ant stronge , With peynes sore ant longe , of ...
... moder mylde , For love of thine childe , ernde us hevene lyht . Alas ! that y ne couthe turne to him my thoht , Ant cheosen him to lemmon , so duere he us hath y - boht , With woundes deope ant stronge , With peynes sore ant longe , of ...
Página 80
... moder , under rode , By - holt thy sone with glade mode ; blythe , moder , myht thou be . " " Sone , hou shulde y blithe stonde ? Y se thin fet , y se thin honde , nayled to the harde tre . " " Moder , do wey thy wepinge : Y thole 80 ...
... moder , under rode , By - holt thy sone with glade mode ; blythe , moder , myht thou be . " " Sone , hou shulde y blithe stonde ? Y se thin fet , y se thin honde , nayled to the harde tre . " " Moder , do wey thy wepinge : Y thole 80 ...
Página 81
... Moder , merci , let me deye , For Adam out of helle beye , ant his kun that is for - lore . " " Sone , what shal me to rede ? My peyne pyneth me to dede , lat me deze the by - fore ! " 66 Moder , thou rewe al of thi bern , Thou wosshe a ...
... Moder , merci , let me deye , For Adam out of helle beye , ant his kun that is for - lore . " " Sone , what shal me to rede ? My peyne pyneth me to dede , lat me deze the by - fore ! " 66 Moder , thou rewe al of thi bern , Thou wosshe a ...
Página 82
... Moder , nou thou miht wel leren , Whet sorewe haveth that children beren , whet sorewe hit is with childe gon . " " Sorewe y - wis , y con the telle ; Bote hit be the pyne of helle , 66 more sorewe wot y non . " Moder , rew of moder ...
... Moder , nou thou miht wel leren , Whet sorewe haveth that children beren , whet sorewe hit is with childe gon . " " Sorewe y - wis , y con the telle ; Bote hit be the pyne of helle , 66 more sorewe wot y non . " Moder , rew of moder ...
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Términos y frases comunes
bien blisse blod bote brede bryht bryng carrion crow Catskin chyld Crist cuer dame dance deth Dieu drynke femme fere feyr ffor fust Godes grete hath haveth hevene heze hire honde huerte Jack Horner JAMES ORCHARD HALLIWELL Jhesu John John Crowder joie king kyng lady levedy loke thou londe lord lordys Lucy Locket lyht maid Mary mede merry Mès mete molt myht namore noht nout nowell nyht old woman Percy Society Quar Richard to Robin Robin to Bobbin rode ryzt sauntz says Richard says Robin schalle shal shalbe shulde sing sone song sore speke stonde suete Suete Jhesu sunne syng thah ther thoht thou art thow thre thyng tiel trewe tyme wife WILLIAM CHAPPELL withouten Wolcum wolde wylle yf thou
Pasajes populares
Página 179 - 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 84 - Hey, diddle diddle, the cat and the fiddle, The cow jumped over the moon. The little dog laughed to see such sport, And the dish ran away with the spoon!
Página 132 - One, two, Buckle my shoe; Three, four, Shut the door; Five, six, Pick up sticks; Seven, eight, Lay them straight; Nine, ten, A good fat hen; Eleven, twelve, Who will delve?
Página 27 - The boar's head in hand bear I, Bedeck'd with bays and rosemary ; And I pray you, my masters, be merry Quot estis in convivio. Caput apri defero, Reddens laudes domino.
Página 63 - SO now is come our joyful'st feast; Let every man be jolly, Each room with ivy leaves is drest, And every post with holly. Though some churls at our mirth repine, Round your foreheads garlands twine, Drown sorrow in a cup of wine, And let us all be merry. Now, all our neighbours...
Página 5 - Then came the Holy One, blessed be He ! And killed the Angel of Death, That killed the butcher, That slew the ox, That drank the water, That quenched the fire, That burned the staff, That beat the dog, That bit the cat, That ate the kid That my father bought For two pieces of money: A kid, a kid.
Página 95 - As I was going to St. Ives, I met a man with seven wives, Every wife had seven sacks, Every sack had seven cats, Every cat had seven kits— Kits, cats, sacks, and wives, How many were going to St. Ives?
Página 46 - Sing a song of sixpence, A pocket full of rye; Four and twenty blackbirds Baked in a pie. When the pie was opened, The birds began to sing; Wasn't that a dainty dish To set before the king?
Página 64 - Young men and maids, and girls and boys, Give life to one another's joys; And you anon shall by their noise Perceive that they are merry.
Página 9 - Pussy cat, pussy cat, where have you been? I've been to London to look at the queen. Pussy cat, pussy cat, what did you there?