Old Ballads: Historical and Narrative, with Some of Modern Date, Volume 4

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R. H. Evans, 1810 - Ballads, English
 

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Page 357 - He either fears his fate too much, Or his deserts are small, Who dares not put it to the touch To gain or lose it all.
Page 96 - The dews of summer night did fall ; The moon, sweet regent of the sky, Silver'd the walls of Cumnor Hall, And many an oak that grew thereby.
Page 100 - My spirits flag — my hopes decay — Still that dread death-bell smites my ear ; And many a boding seems to say, ' Countess, prepare, thy end is near...
Page 98 - Rather ambition's gilded crown Makes thee forget thy humble spouse. "Then, Leicester, why, again I plead, (The injured surely may repine,)— Why didst thou wed a country maid, When some fair princess might be thine?
Page 98 - I'm told, is beauty's throne, . Where every lady's passing rare, That Eastern flowers, that shame the sun, Are not so glowing, not so fair. ' ' Then, Earl, why didst thou leave the beds Where roses and where lilies vie, To seek a primrose, whose pale shades Must sicken when those gauds are by ? ' ' 'Mong rural beauties I was one, Among the fields wild flowers are fair ; Some country swain might me have won, And thought my beauty passing rare.
Page 52 - From eyes that mock the diamond's blaze. Whence comes my woe ? as freely own : Ah me ! 'twas from a heart like stone. The blushing cheek speaks modest mind, The lips befitting words most kind ; The eye does tempt to love's desire, And seems to say — 'tis Cupid's fire : Yet all so fair but speak my moan, Sith nought doth say the heart of stone.
Page 99 - s their estate ; To smile for joy than sigh for woe— To be content — than to be great. " How far less blest am I than them ? Daily to pine and waste with care ! Like the poor plant, that, from its stem Divided, feels the chilling air. " Nor, cruel Earl ! can I enjoy The humble charms of solitude ; Your minions proud my peace destroy, By sullen frowns or pratings rude. " Last night, as sad I chanced to stray, The village death-bell smote my ear; They winked aside, and seemed to say, ' Countess,...
Page 291 - Would grace my lowly cot. Oft the great earl, from toils of state And cumbrous pomp of power, Would gladly seek my little cell To spend the tranquil hour. But length of life is length of woe ; I lived to mourn his fall : I lived to mourn his godlike son, Their friends and followers all.
Page 358 - gainst my Battery if I find Thou shun'st the Prize so sore, As that thou set'st me up a Blind, I'll never love thee more. Or in the Empire of thy Heart, Where I should solely be, Another do pretend a Part, And dares to Vie with me, Or if Committees thou erect, And goes on such a Score, I'll sing and laugh at thy Neglect, And never love thee more.
Page 101 - The oaks were shatter'd on the green , Woe was the hour — for never more That hapless Countess e'er was seen! And in that Manor now no more Is cheerful feast and sprightly ball; For ever since that dreary hour Have spirits haunted Cumnor Hall. The village maids, with fearful glance, Avoid the ancient moss-grown wall; Nor ever lead the merry dance Among the groves of Cumnor Hall. Full many a traveller oft hath sigh'd, And pensive wept the Countess' fall, As wand'ring onwards they've espied The haunted...

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