Ballads of the Brave ... Fourth edition, revised and re-classified, with additional notesMethuen & Company, 1911 - Всего страниц: 447 |
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Alfred Noyes Anglo-Saxon arms Arthur Ballads battle blood Bonny Dundee brave burning Charles Cremona cried Crown dark Dark Rosaleen dead death deep Demy 8vo Dundee England English eyes face Fcap Felicia Dorothea Hemans fell Fifth Edition fight fire flag Flag of England Fourth Edition Francis French gallant glory hand hath head hear heard heart heaven Henry hill horse Illus Illustrated John King King Arthur land Lars Porsena Latin light line 14 London Town look Lord loud morning never night noble o'er Osawatomie poem Poetical quoth ride river roar rock rode Rosaleen rose round royal Rudyard Kipling sail Samian wine Second Edition ship shore Sir Bedivere smile soldiers song soul sound Spain spake stars stood sword thee There's Third Edition thou thunder trated victory waves wild William wind word
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Стр. 103 - Going to the Wars TELL me not, Sweet, I am unkind, That from the nunnery Of thy chaste breast, and quiet mind, To war and arms I fly. True; a new mistress now I chase, The first foe in the field; And with a stronger faith embrace A sword, a horse, a shield. Yet this inconstancy is such, As you too shall adore; I could not love thee, dear, so much, Loved I not honour more.
Стр. 82 - Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace, To silence envious tongues : be just, and fear not. Let all the ends thou aim'st at be thy country's, Thy God's, and truth's : then, if thou fall'st, O Cromwell ! Thou fall'st a blessed martyr.
Стр. 210 - A wet sheet and a flowing sea, A wind that follows fast, And fills the white and rustling sail, And bends the gallant mast; And bends the gallant mast, my boys, While, like the eagle free, Away the good ship flies, and leaves Old England on the lee. O for a soft and gentle wind!
Стр. 303 - I long wooed your daughter, my suit you denied ; Love swells like the Solway, but ebbs like its tide — And now I am come, with this lost love of mine, To lead but one measure, drink one cup of wine. = There are maidens in Scotland more lovely by far, That would gladly be bride to the young Lochinvar.
Стр. 13 - Then out spake brave Horatius, The Captain of the gate: " To every man upon this earth Death cometh soon or late. And how can man die better Than facing fearful odds For the ashes of his fathers And the temples of his gods...
Стр. 210 - Brave Kempenfelt is gone ; His last sea-fight is fought, His work of glory done. It was not in the battle ; No tempest gave the shock ; She sprang no fatal leak, She ran upon no rock. His sword was in its sheath, His fingers held the pen, When Kempenfelt went down With twice four hundred men.
Стр. 144 - But he lay like a warrior taking his rest With his martial cloak around him. Few and short were the prayers we said, And we spoke not a word of sorrow, But we steadfastly gazed on the face of the dead, And we bitterly thought of the morrow. We thought as we hollowed his narrow bed, And smoothed down his lonely pillow, That the foe and the stranger would tread o'er his head, And we far away on the billow.
Стр. 147 - The lamps shone o'er fair women and brave men. A thousand hearts beat happily ; and when Music arose with its voluptuous swell, Soft eyes looked love to eyes which spake again, And all went merry as a marriage bell ; But hush ! Hark ! A deep sound strikes like a rising knell. Did ye not hear it ? — No ; 'twas but the wind, Or the car rattling o'er the stony street : On with the dance! Let joy be unconfined ; No sleep till morn, when youth and pleasure meet To chase the glowing hours with flying...
Стр. 130 - Old Kaspar took it from the boy, Who stood expectant by; And then the old man shook his head, And, with a natural sigh — " 'Tis some poor fellow's skull," said he, " Who fell in the great victory.
Стр. 81 - Cromwell, I did not think to shed a tear In all my miseries ; but thou hast forced me, Out of thy honest truth, to play the woman. Let's dry our eyes : and thus far hear me, Cromwell ; And — when I am forgotten, as I shall be, And sleep in dull cold marble, where no mention Of me more must be heard of — say, I taught thee...