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 - English literature |
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Page 29
... Levedy , of alle londe Les me out of bonde , broht icham in wo , Have resting on honde , Ant sent thou me thi sonde , sone , er thou me slo ; my reste is with the ro : Thah men to me han onde , To love nuly noht wonde , ne lete for non ...
... Levedy , of alle londe Les me out of bonde , broht icham in wo , Have resting on honde , Ant sent thou me thi sonde , sone , er thou me slo ; my reste is with the ro : Thah men to me han onde , To love nuly noht wonde , ne lete for non ...
Page 82
... sorewe , Hire blisse sprong the thridde morewe , blythe moder were thou tho . Levedy , for that ilke blisse , Bysech thi sone of sunnes lisse , thou be oure sheld azeyn oure fo . Blessed be thou , ful of blysse , Let us 82 SPECIMENS OF.
... sorewe , Hire blisse sprong the thridde morewe , blythe moder were thou tho . Levedy , for that ilke blisse , Bysech thi sone of sunnes lisse , thou be oure sheld azeyn oure fo . Blessed be thou , ful of blysse , Let us 82 SPECIMENS OF.
Page 87
... That whilen ber that suete savour , in somer , that suete tyde ; Ne is no quene so stark ne stour , Ne no levedy so bryht in bour , that ded ne shal by - glyde . Whose wol fleysh lust for - gon , ant hevene LYRIC POETRY . 87.
... That whilen ber that suete savour , in somer , that suete tyde ; Ne is no quene so stark ne stour , Ne no levedy so bryht in bour , that ded ne shal by - glyde . Whose wol fleysh lust for - gon , ant hevene LYRIC POETRY . 87.
Page 89
... levedy gent ant smal , heried by hyr joies fyve . Wher so eny sek ys , thider hye blyve ; Thurh hire beoth y - broht to blis bo mayden ant wyve . For he that dude is body on tre , Of oure sunnes have pieté , that weldes heovene boures ...
... levedy gent ant smal , heried by hyr joies fyve . Wher so eny sek ys , thider hye blyve ; Thurh hire beoth y - broht to blis bo mayden ant wyve . For he that dude is body on tre , Of oure sunnes have pieté , that weldes heovene boures ...
Page 90
... levedy shene , Heo is brith so daies liht , that is on me wel sene ; Al y falewe so doth the lef in somer when hit is grene , 3ef mi thoht helpeth me noht , to wham shal y me mene , Sorewe ant syke ant drery mod byndeth me so faste ...
... levedy shene , Heo is brith so daies liht , that is on me wel sene ; Al y falewe so doth the lef in somer when hit is grene , 3ef mi thoht helpeth me noht , to wham shal y me mene , Sorewe ant syke ant drery mod byndeth me so faste ...
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Common terms and phrases
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
Popular passages
Page 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.
Page 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!
Page 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?
Page 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.
Page 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...
Page 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.
Page 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?
Page 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?
Page 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.
Page 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?