Ballads and Poems Illustrating English HistoryFrank Sidgwick The University Press, 1907 - 211 pages |
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Common terms and phrases
abbot Agincourt ancient Andrew Barton arrow battle Bishop Bishop of Durham boar bold Robin brother Canute captain Chevy Chase crown Dickie dree eagle Earl Douglas Earl Percy Earl Richmond English Evesham's plain Fair Johnnie fell fight Flodden fool fought frae French gallant give thee gold gone grace hand hang Harlaw Harry Hunt hath head heart honour horse Horsley hundred James John Johnnie Armstrong King Henry king of France King of Scots Laird's Jock leaves so brown leugh Liddesdale London lord Howard loud lovely mainmast tree Mary Ambree merry England never night noble numbers o'er poem pray prince Queen quoth Redde pro victoria ride Robin Hood rose royal says Scotland Scots Scottish shame ship shot sing Sir Andrew Barton slain stout sword ta'en tell thine thou art thou shalt took Traditional Ballad unto W. E. AYTOUN ΙΟ
Popular passages
Page 167 - Last noon beheld them full of lusty life, Last eve in Beauty's circle proudly gay, The midnight brought the signal-sound of strife, The morn the marshalling in arms, — the day Battle's magnificently stern array...
Page 166 - And there was mounting in hot haste: the steed, The mustering squadron, and the clattering car, Went pouring forward with impetuous speed, And swiftly forming in the ranks of war; And the deep thunder peal on peal afar; And near, the beat of the alarming drum Roused up the soldier ere the morning star; While thronged the citizens with terror dumb, Or whispering, with white lips — "The foe! They come! They come!
Page 166 - Ah! then and there was hurrying to and fro, And gathering tears, and tremblings of distress, And cheeks all pale, which but an hour ago Blushed at the praise of their own loveliness; And there were sudden partings, such as press The life from out young hearts, and choking sighs Which ne'er might be repeated...
Page 147 - IT wAS a summer evening; Old Kaspar's work was done. And he before his cottage door Was sitting in the sun; And by him sported on the green His little grandchild Wilhelmine. She saw her brother Peterkin Roll something large and round. Which he beside the rivulet In playing there had found; He came to ask what he had found. That was so large and smooth and round. 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...
Page 131 - Tis madness to resist or blame The face of angry heaven's flame ; And if we would speak true, Much to the Man is due Who, from his private gardens, where He lived reserved and austere (As if his highest plot To plant the bergamot) Could by industrious valour climb To ruin the great work of time, And cast the Kingdoms old Into another mould.
Page 165 - 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 feet...
Page 156 - 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.
Page 157 - OF Nelson and the North Sing the glorious day's renown, When to battle fierce came forth All the might of Denmark's crown, And her arms along the deep proudly shone; By each gun the lighted brand In a bold determined hand, And the Prince of all the land Led them on.
Page 112 - Then bugle's note and cannon's roar the deathlike silence broke, And with one start, and with one cry, the royal city woke. At once on all her stately gates arose the answering fires; At once the wild alarum clashed from all her reeling spires; From all the batteries of the Tower pealed loud the voice of fear ; And all the thousand masts of Thames sent back a louder cheer...
Page 164 - 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.