Popular British Ballads, Ancient and Modern, Volume 3Reginald Brimley Johnson Dent, 1894 |
Contents
| 161 | |
| 167 | |
| 173 | |
| 210 | |
| 216 | |
| 222 | |
| 230 | |
| 237 | |
| 83 | |
| 109 | |
| 110 | |
| 137 | |
| 139 | |
| 146 | |
| 144 | |
| 150 | |
| 244 | |
| 246 | |
| 252 | |
| 268 | |
| 277 | |
| 284 | |
| 289 | |
| 290 | |
Other editions - View all
Common terms and phrases
arms Baron beneath bird blood boat bold bonny bower bride bright cauldron Ceridwen cheek Christabel CHRISTINA ROSSETTI Cockpen Coldinghame cried cross'd dame dead deep dream Earl Earlsburn eyes face fair fast father fear fell frae friar gentle Geraldine Gwenwynwyn Gwion hand hast hath head heard heart Hell and Heaven Imogine John Barleycorn king knight lady lady's land of mist light Little brother Lochinvar look look'd lord loud maid maidens Mary Mother Meggan merry mist moon Nautilus Nelly Gray never o'er pale pass'd pray quoth Ravelston ride Roland de Vaux rose round sail Sally Brown sang shines ship silent sing Sir Leoline Sister Helen skipper sleep smile song soul spake St Keyne steed stone stood sweet T. L. PEACOCK thee thou turn'd Twas voice wedding-guest ween wild wind young
Popular passages
Page 123 - FIRST VOICE. But why drives on that ship so fast, Without or wave or wind? SECOND VOICE. The air is cut away before, And closes from behind. Fly, brother, fly! more high, more high Or we shall be belated : For slow and slow that ship will go, When the Mariner's trance is abated.
Page 10 - And we will then repair Unto the Bell at Edmonton All in a chaise and pair. My sister, and my sister's child, Myself, and children three, Will fill the chaise ; so you must ride On horseback after we. He soon replied, I do admire Of womankind but one, And you are she, my dearest dear, Therefore it shall be done. I am a linendraper bold, As all the world doth know, And my good friend the calender Will lend his horse to go.
Page 104 - IT is an ancient Mariner, And he stoppeth one of three. ' By thy long grey beard and glittering eye, Now wherefore stopp'st thou me? The Bridegroom's doors are opened wide, And I am next of kin ; The guests are met, the feast is set : May'st hear the merry din.
Page 87 - And slowly rolled her eyes around; Then drawing in her breath aloud, Like one that shuddered, she unbound The cincture from beneath her breast: Her silken robe, and inner vest, Dropt to her feet, and full in view, Behold! her bosom and half her side A sight to dream of, not to tell!
Page 138 - I'm the chief of Ulva's isle, And this Lord Ullin's daughter. — And fast before her father's men Three days we've fled together, For should he find us in the glen, My blood would stain the heather. His horsemen hard behind us ride ; Should they our steps...
Page 141 - On the lofty British line: It was ten of April morn by the chime: As they drifted on their path There was silence deep as death; And the boldest held his breath For a time. But the might of England flush'd To anticipate the scene; And her van the fleeter rush'd O'er the deadly space between. "Hearts of oak!
Page 113 - We listened and looked sideways up! Fear at my heart, as at a cup, My life-blood seemed to sip! The stars were dim, and thick the night, The steersman's face by his lamp gleamed white; From the sails the dew did drip — Till clomb above the eastern bar The horned Moon, with one bright star Within the nether tip.
Page 154 - BEN BATTLE was a soldier bold, And used to war's alarms ; But a cannon-ball took off his legs, So he laid down his arms ! Now as they bore him off the field, Said he, " Let others shoot, For here I leave my second leg, And the Forty-second Foot...
Page 126 - The Pilot and the Pilot's boy, I heard them coming fast : Dear Lord in Heaven ! it was a joy The dead men could not blast. I saw a third — I heard his voice : It is the Hermit good ! He singeth loud his godly hymns That he makes in the wood. He'll shrieve my soul, he'll wash away The Albatross's blood.
Page 2 - Good people all, of every sort, Give ear unto my song ; And if you find it wondrous short, It cannot hold you long. In Islington there was a man, Of whom the world might say, That still a godly race he ran, Whene'er he went to pray.