ما يقوله الناس - كتابة مراجعة
لم نعثر على أي مراجعات في الأماكن المعتادة.
طبعات أخرى - عرض جميع المقتطفات
beauty birds bloom bonny breaſt breath bright charms cries dance dear death delight e'er England ev'ry eyes face fair fate FAVOURITE fear fighs fight fing firſt fond gave gentle girl give grace green grove hand happy head hear heart hills hope hour I'll kind King lady laugh leave light live look lover maid married meet merry mind morn muſt ne'er never night o'er once pain Patrick O'Neal plain play pleaſe pleaſure poor pretty pride prove roſe round Royal ſay ſee ſhall ſhe ſhould ſmile ſoft ſome SONG ſpring ſtill ſuch Sung ſure ſwain ſweet tear tell tender thee thoſe thou thought thro tree true Vauxhall wind wiſh wou'd young youth
الصفحة 44 - Crabbed age and youth Cannot live together ; Youth is full of pleasance, Age is full of care : Youth like summer morn, Age like winter weather ; Youth like summer brave, Age like winter bare. Youth is full of sport, Age's breath is short, Youth is nimble, age is lame. Youth is hot and bold, Age is weak and cold ; Youth is wild, and age is tame.
الصفحة 88 - The rest complains of cares to come. The flowers do fade, and wanton fields To wayward Winter reckoning yields: A honey tongue, a heart of gall, Is fancy's spring, but sorrow's fall. Thy gowns, thy shoes, thy beds of roses, Thy cap, thy kirtle...
الصفحة 54 - I have skill to complain, Though the Muses my temples have crowned ; What though, when they hear my soft strain, The Virgins sit weeping around; Ah ! COLIN ! thy hopes are in vain ! Thy pipe and thy laurel resign! Thy False One inclines to a Swain, Whose music is sweeter than thine!
الصفحة 53 - Ghosts.* r \ESPAIRING beside a clear stream, A shepherd forsaken was laid ; And while a false nymph was his theme, A willow supported his head. The wind, that blew over the plain, To his sighs with a sigh did reply : And the brook, in return to his pain, Ran mournfully murmuring by.
الصفحة 54 - twas a pleasure too great ; I listen'd, and cried when she sung, Was nightingale ever so sweet ! How foolish was I to believe, She could dote on so lowly a clown, Or that her fond heart would not grieve To forsake the fine folk of the town ; To think that a beauty so gay So kind and so constant...
الصفحة 55 - For ever, Fortune, wilt thou prove An unrelenting foe to Love, And when we meet a mutual heart Come in between, and bid us part ? Bid us sigh on from day to day, And wish and wish the soul away; Till youth and genial years are flown, And all the life of life is gone...
الصفحة 88 - Thy gowns, thy shoes, thy beds of roses, Thy cap, thy kirtle, and thy posies, Soon break, soon wither, soon forgotten ; In folly ripe, in reason rotten. Thy belt of straw and ivy- buds, Thy coral clasps and amber studs, All these in me no means can move, To come to thee and be thy love.
الصفحة 24 - Tis STREPHON, on the mountain's brow, Has won my right good will ; To him I gave my plighted vow, / With him I'll climb the hill.