Early English Poetry, Ballads, and Popular Literature of the Middle Ages: Ancient poetical tracts of the sixteenth centuryPercy Society, 1842 - English literature |
From inside the book
Results 1-5 of 23
Page 17
... pleasure , That cocke with the fether , Is gone an huntynge ; Hymselfe all alone To the wode he is gone To here the kockowe synge . Thus with her playfere , Maketh she mery chere , The husbande knoweth nothynge ; She gyueth money plente ...
... pleasure , That cocke with the fether , Is gone an huntynge ; Hymselfe all alone To the wode he is gone To here the kockowe synge . Thus with her playfere , Maketh she mery chere , The husbande knoweth nothynge ; She gyueth money plente ...
Page 51
... pleasure Was to endure To lye my sydes betwene Nyne monethes , and than Be borne as man , And to brynge hym from tene ; In graue be layed , And me your mayd To make of heuen quene ; And condestende Thus at the ende To graunte man your ...
... pleasure Was to endure To lye my sydes betwene Nyne monethes , and than Be borne as man , And to brynge hym from tene ; In graue be layed , And me your mayd To make of heuen quene ; And condestende Thus at the ende To graunte man your ...
Page 57
... pleasure for to recuyll By force of her from whens my paynes doth crepe ! To wepynge teres tourned is my slepe ; O , what rage , to loue suche a fygure ! Uoyded of pytie , replyte with rygoure . O , what hope , what solace of suche ...
... pleasure for to recuyll By force of her from whens my paynes doth crepe ! To wepynge teres tourned is my slepe ; O , what rage , to loue suche a fygure ! Uoyded of pytie , replyte with rygoure . O , what hope , what solace of suche ...
Page 59
Percy Society. So with complayntes and regretes pyteous , Uoyded of all ioye and pleasure dylectable ; By force wherof constrayned to do thus , My lyfe to lede with syghes lamentable . Thus is my grefe imcomparable , And the remembraunce ...
Percy Society. So with complayntes and regretes pyteous , Uoyded of all ioye and pleasure dylectable ; By force wherof constrayned to do thus , My lyfe to lede with syghes lamentable . Thus is my grefe imcomparable , And the remembraunce ...
Page 61
... pleasure . Thus adieu , farewell all ioye and pleasure ; Adieu all companye of myrthe and dyssporte ; Adieu all luthynge with songe or daunce , Where in tymes past I had comforte ; But nowe A DOLOROUS LOUER . 61.
... pleasure . Thus adieu , farewell all ioye and pleasure ; Adieu all companye of myrthe and dyssporte ; Adieu all luthynge with songe or daunce , Where in tymes past I had comforte ; But nowe A DOLOROUS LOUER . 61.
Other editions - View all
Common terms and phrases
Achilles Albertus Morton ALEXANDER DYCE banysshed Bote brave brest Cocke Lorell comfort Coridon dame dayes dear death dede delight doth Duke dyde edition of 1659 Elizabeth England Est's Sixt Set euery eyes F.S.A. THOMAS fair faire ladies fame foes gallant golden grace grete grief hast hath haue heart heaven Henry Wotton herte honour husbande King Henry ladies land live Lord loue lust maide maidens of London Mayd mayster mourne muse mynde neuer night noble nought Old Ballads payne Percy Society PETER CUNNINGHAM Phillida praise princely PRINCELY SONG printed queen quoth renown reprinted Rose royal ryght satyres saye shame shee shew sholde Sir Henry Wotton SONG sonne sorrow soule Stukely sweet swete thee theyr thou true love tune unto verse Whan wife WILLIAM CHAPPELL Witton Gilbert wofull wolde wyfe wyll Wynkyn de Worde Ye seruauntes
Popular passages
Page 61 - This is that sable stone, this is the cave And womb of earth, that doth his corpse embrace; While others sing his praise, let me engrave These bleeding numbers to adorn the place. Here will I paint the characters of woe; Here will I pay my tribute to the dead ; And here my faithful tears in showers shall flow To humanize the flints ou which I tread.
Page 35 - To fare so freely with so little cost, Than stake his twelvepence to a meaner host.
Page 37 - Rufus the courtier at the theatre, Leaving the best and most conspicuous place, Doth either to the stage himselfe transferre, Or through a grate doth shew his double face : For that the clamorous fry of Innes of Court Fills up the private roomes of greater price ; And such a place, where all may have resort, He in his singularity doth despise.
Page 55 - Speak to my gossip Venus one fair word, One nick-name for her purblind son and heir, Young Adam Cupid, he that shot so trim, When King Cophetua loved the beggar-maid ! He heareth not, he stirreth not, he moveth not ; The ape is dead, and I must conjure him.
Page 55 - Who God doth late and early pray More of his grace than gifts to lend; And entertains the harmless day With a religious book or friend — This man is freed from servile bands Of hope to rise or fear to fall: Lord of himself, though not of lands, And, having nothing, yet hath all.
Page 70 - ... thou great Power, in whom I move, For whom I live, to whom I die, Behold me through thy beams of love, Whilst on this couch of tears I lie ; And cleanse my sordid soul within, By thy Christ's blood, the bath of sin. No...
Page 19 - The begger blusheth scarlet red, And straight againe as pale as lead, But not a word at all she said, She was in such amaze. At last she spake with trembling voyce, And said, O King, I doe rejoyce That you wil take me for your choyce And my degree's so base.
Page 76 - For I must leave my fairest flower, My sweetest Rose, a space, And cross the seas to famous France, Proud rebelles to abase. But yet, my Rose, be sure thou shalt My coming shortlye see, And in my heart, when hence I am, He beare my Rose with mee.
Page 7 - Riots were his best delight, *) With stately feastings day and night ; In court and citty thus he won renowne. Thus wasting land and living By this lawlesse giving, At last he sold the pavements of his yard...
Page 79 - And you, Sir Thomas, whom I trust To be my love's defence, Be careful of my gallant Rose When I am parted hence." And therewithal he fetched a sigh, As though his heart would break, And Rosamond, for very grief, Not one plain word could speak. And at their parting well they might, In heart be grieved sore, After that day fair Rosamond The king did see no more.