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Vocal Poetry, Or a Select Collection of English Songs: To Which Is Prefixed ...
No preview available - 2017
admire appear arms ballad beauty bless bliss bosom breast breath bright charms cheek cold compositions cruel Cupid dare dear delight desire despair ease eyes face fair fancy fate fear feel fire flame flowers fond gaze gentle give grace hand happy hear heard heart hope hour kind language leave light lips live look lost Love's lover maid meet mind move nature ne'er never night nymph o'er once pain passion Phyllis pieces pity plain play pleasing pleasure poetry pride prove reason rest rose round shade shepherd sigh smile soft song soon sorrows soul sound speak strain swain sweet taste tears tell tender thee thine thou thought thousand thro true truth vain vows wind wish wound young youth
Page 164 - Still to be neat, still to be drest, As you were going to a feast ; Still to be powdered, still perfumed : Lady, it is to be presumed, Though art's hid causes are not found, All is not sweet, all is not sound. Give me a look, give me a face, That makes simplicity a grace : Robes loosely flowing, hair as free : Such sweet neglect more taketh me, Than all the adulteries of art ; They strike mine eyes, but not my heart.
Page lxiv - I long wooed your daughter, my suit you denied ; — Love swells like the Solway, but ebbs like its tide — And now am I 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.
Page 45 - When lovely woman stoops to folly. And finds, too late, that men betray. What charm can soothe her melancholy, What art can wash her guilt away? The only art her guilt to cover. To hide her shame from every eye, To give repentance to her lover, And wring his bosom, — is to die.
Page lxiv - One touch to her hand, and one word in her ear. When they reached the hall door, and the charger stood near; So light to the croupe the fair lady he swung, So light to the saddle before her he sprung! "She is won! we are gone, over bank, bush, and scaur: They'll have fleet steeds that follow,
Page lxiv - mong Graemes of the Netherby clan; Forsters, Fenwicks, and Musgraves, they rode and they ran : There was racing and chasing, on Cannobie Lee, But the lost bride of Netherby ne'er did they see.
Page lxiv - So stately his form, and so lovely her face, That never a hall such a galliard did grace ; While her mother did fret, and her father did fume, And the bridegroom stood dangling his bonnet and plume ; And the bride-maidens whispered, ''Twere better by far To have matched our fair cousin with young Lochinvar.
Page 52 - No wither'd witch shall here be seen, No goblins lead their nightly crew; The female fays shall haunt the green, And dress thy grave with pearly dew ! The red-breast oft at evening hours Shall kindly lend his little aid, With hoary moss, and gather'd flowers, To deck the ground where thou art laid.
Page 214 - ON A GIRDLE. That which her slender waist confined, Shall now my joyful temples bind ; No monarch but would give his crown His arms might do what this has done. It was my heaven's extremest sphere, The pale which held that lovely deer, My joy, my grief, my hope, my love, Did all within this circle move. A narrow compass, and yet there Dwelt all that's good and all that's fair; Give me but what this ribband bound, Take all the rest the sun goes round.
Page 24 - When forced the fair nymph to forego, What anguish I felt at my heart! Yet I thought — but it might not be so — 'Twas with pain that she saw me depart. She gazed as I slowly withdrew, My path I could hardly discern; So sweetly she bade me adieu, I thought that she bade me return.