Lancashire lyrics, ed. by J. Harland |
طبعات أخرى - عرض جميع المقتطفات
عبارات ومصطلحات مألوفة
abeawt aw know aw wur Aw'd aw'll aw'm Aw're Aw've BALLAD beauty Black Bess bless bloom blue bonny bower breast breath bright brow carrion crow CHARLES SWAIN charms cheek cheer childer dark dear deawn e'er eawr eawt EDWARD RUSHTON EDWIN WAUGH eyes fair feel flowers gazed gone Goosnargh Grindrod hath heart heaven heaw heawse hour JOHN BOLTON JOHN BYROM JOHN CRITCHLEY kiss Lancashire lass leet lips loike Lord Derwentwater Lucy Neale maid mother ne'er neaw neet never night nobbut nowt o'er pass'd reawnd reet Robin rose SAMUEL BAMFORD sigh sing sleep smile soft song sorrow soul stars sweet tears tell thae theaw thee There's thine thou art toime towd tree Twas Twur wark We'n weel wheer whoam wife wild WILLIAM HARRISON AINSWORTH WILLIAM HOBSON young
مقاطع مشهورة
الصفحة 276 - Is rear'd o'er Glory's bed. Go, stranger ! track the deep — Free, free the white sail spread ! Wave may not foam, nor wild wind sweep, Where rest not England's dead. On Egypt's burning plains, By the pyramid...
الصفحة 271 - The sky is changed ! — and such a change ! Oh night, And storm, and darkness, ye are wondrous strong, Yet lovely in your strength, as is the light Of a dark eye in woman ! Far along, From peak to peak, the rattling crags among Leaps the live thunder ! Not from one lone cloud, But every mountain now hath found a tongue, And Jura answers, through her misty shroud, Back to the joyous Alps, who call to her aloud!
الصفحة 68 - I was so good-humoured, so cheerful and gay, My heart was as light as a feather all day : But now I so cross, and so peevish am grown, So strangely uneasy, as never was known. My fair one is gone, and my joys are all...
الصفحة 277 - But let the sound roll on ! It hath no tone of dread For those that from their toils are gone ; — There slumber England's dead. Loud rush the torrent-floods...
الصفحة 149 - Home's not merely four square walls, Though with pictures hung and gilded; Home is where affection calls Filled with shrines the heart had builded. Home! go watch the faithful dove, Sailing 'neath the heaven above us; Home is where there.s one to love; Home is where there's one to love us.
الصفحة 278 - There slumber England's dead. The warlike of the isles, The men of field and wave ! Are not the rocks their funeral piles, The seas and shores their grave ? Go, stranger ! track the deep, Free, free the white sail spread ! Wave may not foam, nor wild wind sweep, Where rest not England's dead.
الصفحة 67 - I went ; Ten thousand sweet Pleasures I felt in my Breast : Sure never fond Shepherd like Colin was blest ! But now she is gone, and has left me behind, What a marvellous Change on a sudden I find ! When Things were as fine as could possibly be, I thought 'twas the Spring ; but alas ! it was she.
الصفحة 277 - But let the ice drift on ! Let the cold-blue desert spread ! Their course with mast and flag is done, There slumber England's dead. The warlike of the isles...
الصفحة 64 - I'll make me a posy of hyssop, — no other I can touch, — That all the world may plainly see I love one flower too much ; My garden is run wild ! where shall I plant anew — For my bed, that once was covered with thyme, is all overrun with rue?
الصفحة 166 - An' a nice little white cotton bo' ; An' aw kiss'd her again ; but hoo said At hoo wanted to kiss thee an' o'. An' Dick, too, aw'd sich wark wi...