Folk SongsJohn Williamson Palmer Charles Scribner, 1861 - 466 páginas |
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Página 13
... hands like a dead man's hand , And the eyes of a dead man's head . There's nothing but cinders and sand ; The rat and the mouse have fed , And the summer's empty and cold ; Over valley and wold , Wherever I turn my head , TOMMY'S DEAD ...
... hands like a dead man's hand , And the eyes of a dead man's head . There's nothing but cinders and sand ; The rat and the mouse have fed , And the summer's empty and cold ; Over valley and wold , Wherever I turn my head , TOMMY'S DEAD ...
Página 15
... hand instead . All things go amiss , boys ; You may lay me where she is , boys , And I'll rest my old head . ' Tis a poor world , this , boys ; And Tommy's dead . SYDNEY DOBELL . LAMENT OF THE BORDER WIDOW . My love he built me a bonny ...
... hand instead . All things go amiss , boys ; You may lay me where she is , boys , And I'll rest my old head . ' Tis a poor world , this , boys ; And Tommy's dead . SYDNEY DOBELL . LAMENT OF THE BORDER WIDOW . My love he built me a bonny ...
Página 19
... hand in hand together tread ; Sweet - smiling peace shall crown our dwelling , And babes , sweet - smiling babes , our bed . How should I love the pretty creatures , While round my knees they fondly clung , To see them look their ...
... hand in hand together tread ; Sweet - smiling peace shall crown our dwelling , And babes , sweet - smiling babes , our bed . How should I love the pretty creatures , While round my knees they fondly clung , To see them look their ...
Página 21
... hand , And the sound of a voice that is still ! Break , break , break , At the foot of thy crags , O Sea ! But the tender grace of a day that is dead Will never come back to me . ALFRED TENNYSON . THE PASSAGE . MANY a year is in its ...
... hand , And the sound of a voice that is still ! Break , break , break , At the foot of thy crags , O Sea ! But the tender grace of a day that is dead Will never come back to me . ALFRED TENNYSON . THE PASSAGE . MANY a year is in its ...
Página 52
... hands . Thus Death , who kings and tars despatches , In vain Tom's life has doffed ; For , though his body's under hatches , His soul is gone aloft . CHARLES DIBDIN . LA BELLE DAME SANS MERCI . I. O WHAT can 52 TOM BOWLING... DIBDIN ...
... hands . Thus Death , who kings and tars despatches , In vain Tom's life has doffed ; For , though his body's under hatches , His soul is gone aloft . CHARLES DIBDIN . LA BELLE DAME SANS MERCI . I. O WHAT can 52 TOM BOWLING... DIBDIN ...
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Términos y frases comunes
ALFRED TENNYSON angels Annabel Lee beautiful bells beneath bird blessed Bobbett bonnie bosom boys breast breath bride bright brow cave of silver cheek cold d'ye dead dear Death deep door doth dream EUGENE ARAM eyes face fair fear feet flowers friends grave grief hair hand hath head hear heart Heaven HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW Hurrah kiss land lassie light lips live look maiden Mary MAUD MULLER merry morning ne'er never Nevermore night o'er pale raven river river Lee ROBERT HERRICK rose round sailor Shandon shine sighs silent sing SIR PATRICK SPENS sleep smile snow soft SONG sorrow soul spirit stars Summer sweet SYDNEY DOBELL tears tell thee There's thine THOMAS HOOD thou thought tree Twas wander weary weel weep wild Willie wind YORK PUBLIC LIBRARY young
Pasajes populares
Página 168 - Fear no more the frown o' the great: Thou art past the tyrant's stroke. Care no more to clothe and eat; To thee the reed is as the oak: The sceptre, learning, physic, must All follow this, and come to dust.
Página 243 - ... 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! I remember, I remember, The roses, red and white, The violets, and the lily-cups, Those flowers made of light! The lilacs where the robin built, And where my brother set The laburnum on his birth-day,— The tree is living yet!
Página 172 - Stitch — stitch — stitch — In poverty, hunger, and dirt, Sewing at once with a double thread, A Shroud as well as a Shirt! "But why do I talk of Death? That phantom of grisly bone. I hardly fear his terrible shape, It seems so like my own — It seems so like my own, Because of the fasts I keep; O God!
Página 60 - Love, by harsh evidence, Thrown from its eminence; Even God's providence Seeming estranged. Where the lamps quiver So far in the river, With many a light From window and casement, From garret to basement, She stood, with amazement, Houseless by night. The bleak wind of March Made her tremble and shiver; But not the dark arch, Or the black flowing river; Mad from life's history, Glad to death's mystery, Swift to be hurled — Anywhere, anywhere Out of the world!
Página 181 - Forward, the Light Brigade ! Charge for the guns ! " he said : Into the valley of Death Rode the six hundred. " Forward, the Light Brigade...
Página 89 - That moss-covered vessel I hail as a treasure; For often at noon, when returned from the field, I found it the source of an exquisite pleasure, The purest and sweetest that nature can yield. How ardent I seized it with hands that were glowing! And quick to the white-pebbled bottom it fell; Then soon, with the emblem of truth overflowing, And dripping with coolness it rose from the well; The old oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket, The moss-covered bucket, arose from the well.
Página 262 - Then off there flung in smiling joy, And held himself erect By just his horse's mane, a boy: You hardly could suspect — (So tight he kept his lips compressed, Scarce any blood came through) You looked twice ere you saw his breast Was all but shot in two. "Well," cried he, "Emperor, by God's grace We've got you Ratisbon!
Página 302 - But the Raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling, Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust, and door ; Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore — What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore Meant in croaking "Nevermore.
Página 163 - With coral clasps and amber studs : And if these pleasures may thee move, Come live with me and be my love...
Página 308 - She was a Phantom of delight When first she gleamed upon my sight; A lovely Apparition, sent To be a moment's ornament; Her eyes as stars of Twilight fair; Like Twilight's, too, her dusky hair; But all things else about her drawn From May-time and the cheerful Dawn; A dancing Shape, an Image gay, To haunt, to startle, and waylay.