Ballads and romancesWilliam James Linton, Richard Henry Stoddard Kegan Paul, Trench, 1890 |
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... arms , their sheafs were buckled fast , A short sword at their belt , a buckler scarce a span , Who struck below the knee not counted then a man : All made of Spanish yew , their bows were wondrous strong ; They not an arrow drew but ...
... arms , their sheafs were buckled fast , A short sword at their belt , a buckler scarce a span , Who struck below the knee not counted then a man : All made of Spanish yew , their bows were wondrous strong ; They not an arrow drew but ...
Стр. 11
... arms To parle with his son , if it might be . And twelve knights King Arthur chose , The best in [ all ] his company , That they should go to meet his son , To agree , if it could be . And the King chargèd all his host In readiness for ...
... arms To parle with his son , if it might be . And twelve knights King Arthur chose , The best in [ all ] his company , That they should go to meet his son , To agree , if it could be . And the King chargèd all his host In readiness for ...
Стр. 14
... of us shall dee . " Then the Duke to the river side went And the King's sword then threw he ; A hand and arm did meet that sword , And flourish'd three times certainly . He came again to tell the King , — But 14 TRADITIONAL BALLADS .
... of us shall dee . " Then the Duke to the river side went And the King's sword then threw he ; A hand and arm did meet that sword , And flourish'd three times certainly . He came again to tell the King , — But 14 TRADITIONAL BALLADS .
Стр. 21
... arm : " And ever we will thee , proud porter ! Thou wilt say us no harm . " Sore he looked on King Estmere , And sore he handled the ring ; Then open'd to them the fair hall gates : He let for no kind of thing . King Estmere he light ...
... arm : " And ever we will thee , proud porter ! Thou wilt say us no harm . " Sore he looked on King Estmere , And sore he handled the ring ; Then open'd to them the fair hall gates : He let for no kind of thing . King Estmere he light ...
Стр. 24
... arms him from , And cried so piteously- " For the maiden's love that I have most mind This day may comfort me , Or else ere noon I shall be dead ! " " Thus can Sir Cawline say . When our parish mass that it was done , And 24 TRADITIONAL ...
... arms him from , And cried so piteously- " For the maiden's love that I have most mind This day may comfort me , Or else ere noon I shall be dead ! " " Thus can Sir Cawline say . When our parish mass that it was done , And 24 TRADITIONAL ...
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Часто встречающиеся слова и выражения
Aldingar ancient Mariner anon auld ballad bonny bower bright call'd Child Maurice Clerk Saunders daughter dead dear death Dodhead door Earl Edom eyes fair fair lady fast fear frae gane Glasgerion Glenkindie gold green gude HAMADRYAD hame hand hath head hear heard heart Heir of Linne Hell and Heaven Janet Judas Iscariot King Estmere knee lady land light Little brother Little John look'd lord loud mair mantle Mary Mother merry moon ne'er never night o'er old Brown Osawatomie Osawatomie Brown owre pass'd Percy Percy Folio pray Queen quoth Rhaicos ride Robin Hood rose sail seem'd ship Sir Aldingar Sir Cawline Sir Patrick Spens Sister Helen slain soul of Judas spake steed stood sweet sword ta'en tell thee thou took tree true Love turn'd Twas unto weel wife Willie wind winna wood
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Стр. 183 - The very deep did rot : O Christ ! That ever this should be ! Yea, slimy things did crawl with legs Upon the slimy sea. " About, about, in reel and rout The death-fires danced at night ; The water, like a witch's oils, Burnt green, and blue, and white.
Стр. 192 - Is it he?" quoth one, "Is this the man? By him who died on cross, With his cruel bow he laid full low, The harmless Albatross. " The spirit who bideth by himself In the land of mist and snow, He loved the bird that loved the man Who shot him with his bow.
Стр. 187 - I closed my lids, and kept them close, And the balls like pulses beat; For the sky and the sea, and the sea and the sky Lay like a load on my weary eye. And the dead were at my feet.
Стр. 179 - The Sun came up upon the left, Out of the sea came he! And he shone bright, and on the right Went down into the sea. Higher and higher every day, Till over the mast at noon — ' The Wedding-Guest here beat his breast, For he heard the loud bassoon.
Стр. 189 - The upper air burst into life, And a hundred fire-flags sheen To and fro they were hurried about ; And to and fro, and in and out The wan stars danced between. And the coming wind did roar more loud ; And the sails did sigh like sedge : And the rain poured down from one black cloud The moon was at its edge.
Стр. 237 - Not a word to each other; we kept the great pace, Neck by neck, stride by stride, never changing our place; I turned in my saddle and made its girths tight, Then shortened each stirrup, and set the pique right, Rebuckled the cheek-strap, chained slacker the bit, Nor galloped less steadily Roland a whit.
Стр. 239 - If the British march By land or sea from the town to-night, Hang a lantern aloft in the belfry arch Of the North Church tower as a signal light, — One, if by land, and two, if by sea ; And I on the opposite shore will be, Ready to ride and spread the alarm Through every Middlesex village and farm, For the country folk to be up and to arm.
Стр. 185 - Are those her ribs through which the Sun Did peer, as through a grate? And is that Woman all her crew? Is that a Death? and are there two? Is Death that woman's mate?
Стр. 190 - They groaned, they stirred, they all uprose, Nor spake, nor moved their eyes ; It had been strange, even in a dream, To have seen those dead men rise. The helmsman steered, the ship moved on; Yet never a breeze...
Стр. 237 - And his low head and crest, just one sharp ear bent back For my voice, and the other pricked out on his track; And one eye's black intelligence, — ever that glance O'er its white edge at me, his own master, askance! And the thick heavy spume-flakes which aye and anon His fierce lips shook upwards in galloping on. By Hasselt, Dirck groaned; and cried Joris "Stay spur! Your Roos galloped bravely, the fault's not in her, We'll remember at Aix...