Shropshire Folk-lore, a Sheaf of Gleanings, Volume 3

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Charlotte Sophia Burne
Trübner, 1886

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Page 412 - For which the shepherds, at their festivals, Carol her goodness loud in rustic lays, And throw sweet garland wreaths into her stream Of pansies, pinks, and gaudy daffodils.
Page 412 - There is a gentle Nymph not far from hence, That with moist curb sways the smooth Severn stream : Sabrina is her name, a virgin pure ; Whilom she was the daughter of Locrine, That had the sceptre from his father Brute. She, guiltless damsel, flying the mad pursuit Of her enraged stepdame Guendolen, Commended her fair innocence to the flood That stayed her flight with his cross-flowing course. The water-nymphs, that in the bottom played, Held up their pearled wrists, and took her in, Bearing her straight...
Page 399 - So when a child, as playful children use, Has burnt to tinder a stale last year's news, The flame extinct, he views the roving fire — There goes my lady, and there goes the squire, There goes the parson, oh ! illustrious spark, And there, scarce less illustrious, goes the clerk ! REPORT • OF AN ADJUDGED CASE NOT TO BE FOUND IN ANY OF THE BOOKS.
Page 503 - And with new joy and pride The little actor cons another part; Filling from time to time his 'humorous stage* With all the Persons, down to palsied Age, That Life brings with her in her equipage; As if his whole vocation Were endless imitation.
Page 391 - Tityrus, where th' hast been, Tell him, Thyrsis, what th' hast seen. Tityrus. Gloomy night embraced the place Where the noble infant lay: The babe looked up, and showed his face: In spite of darkness it was day. It was thy day, sweet, and did rise, Not from the east but from thine eyes.
Page 586 - Twas not for want of skill, Or courage, to perform the task, he fell ; (No, no, — a faulty cord, being drawn too tight, •< Hurried his soul on high to take her flight, (.Which bid the body here beneath, good night.
Page 508 - Now you're married, you must obey, You must be true to all you say, You must be kind, you must be good, And keep your wife in kindling wood.
Page 549 - She fetched him some of her father's gold, And some of her mother's fee; And two of the best nags out of the stable, Where they stood thirty and three.
Page 413 - He said : with light fantastic toe, the nymphs Thither assembled, thither every swain; And o'er the dimpled stream a thousand flowers, Pale lilies, roses, violets, and pinks, Mixed with the greens of burnet, mint, and thyme, And trefoil, sprinkled with their sportive arms.
Page 567 - O the rose, the gentle rose, And the fennel that grows so green, God give us grace, in every place, To pray for our king and queen. Furthermore for our enemies all Our prayers they should be strong, Amen, good Lord ; your Charity Is the ending of my song.

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