"Ring Out, Wild Bells" from "In Memoriam"... Tennyson The Song from "Pippa Passes". "Cavalier Tunes". "The Ivy Green". "Home, Sweet Home". "The Old Oaken Bucket". "The Bridge"... "The Day is Done". "The Curfew".. "Hushabye, Sweet, My Own". James Whitcomb Riley Eugene Field . Eugene Field "Wynken, Blynken, and Nod" (Dutch Lullaby).. Eugene Field "Old Folks at Home".. "My Old Kentucky Home" "On the Road to Mandalay”. Songs from "Drake".. Stephen C. Foster "Men Who March Away" (September, 1914)... Thomas Hardy SOME OF THE BEST-KNOWN SACRED SONGS "The Spacious Firmament on High”..... "While Shepherds Watched Their Flocks by Night" . Joseph Addison Nahum Tate, 1702 1 For published airs for songs in The Golden Treasury, see list by Miss Jeanette F. Abrams, The English Journal, p. 387, June, 1915. CHAPTER V THE SIMPLE LYRIC Under the heading, simple lyric, are placed all of those lyrical poems that do not properly belong under any of the other types of lyrics. With the possible exception of the song, more poems are included in this class than in any other in the whole field of literature. The simple lyric touches every mood and emotion of the human heart. These poems are found in every period of English literature, from that of the Anglo-Saxons to the present day, but only a few of them can be given here. THE COMPLAINT TO HIS EMPTY PURSE Chaucer, 1399 To you, my purs, and to non other wight 1 4 hit be night, Now vouchethsauf" this day, or Now purs, that be to me my lyves light, Out of this toune help me through your might, Sin that ye wole nat ben my tresorere: For I am shave as nye as any frere. 7 ere. 8 an equal. 9 guide. 5 10 15 But yit I pray unto your curtesye: Beth hevy ageyn, or elles mot I dye! SUGGESTIONS TO STUDENTS 20 What does Chaucer mean by being "Shaven as close as any friar"? What is the mood of this poem? See story of Chaucer's life for the causes and results of this poem. Try putting this into modern English prose. Does it gain or lose anything by the change? L'ALLEGRO John Milton Hence, loathed Melancholy, Of Cerberus and blackest Midnight born, In Stygian cave forlorn, 'Mongst horrid shapes, and shrieks, and sights unholy, Find out some uncouth cell, 5 Where brooding darkness spreads his jealous wings, There under ebon shades, and low-browed rocks, In dark Cimmerian desert ever dwell. But come, thou Goddess fair and free, And by men, heart-easing Mirth, 10 15 20 25 30 And in thy right hand lead with thee Scatters the rear of darkness thin, Oft listening how the hounds and horn Straight mine eye hath caught new pleasures, Russet lawns, and fallows gray, Where the nibbling flocks do stray; |