The Ballad of Beau Brocade: And Other Poems of the XVIIIth CenturyK. Paul, Trench, Trübner, & Company, 1903 - 124 psl. |
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BALLAD OF BEAU BROCADE & OTHER Austin 1840-1921 Dobson,Hugh 1860-1920 Thomson Peržiūra negalima - 2016 |
The Ballad of Beau Brocade, and Other Poems of the Xviiith Century Austin Dobson Peržiūra negalima - 2015 |
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66 NOTE Afhomson AUSTIN DOBSON Ballad of Beau Bard BEAU BROCADE Beaux best strong waters broken Stile catch the cuckoo's CHARLES WHITTINGHAM Cissy Coach Covent Garden cuckoo's call dear little Molly DOLLY the Chambermaid Elzevir 8vo freak Frontispiece Gentleman's Magazine GENTLEWOMAN GEORGE the Guard GERRARD STREET gray mare hanger Heading to poem Highwayman's manners Hogarth's Holborn Hugh Thomson ivy-leaf for Orchard James's JOHN the Host jovial riot King's evidence knew laced ladies of St leaf-stained Chapter little Molly Trefusis London-Spaw loved Miss Molly Trefusis Muse old sake's sake Old School old Sedan chair Orchard corner Out-spoke DOLLY Pastoral Letter Phyllida PORTO-BELLO at last Prue question of fare Rose Rummer runs to gather Saddling the gray Sam's two Eyes scarce SIR EDWIN Arnold slender credit Stand and Deliver sunny summer doze Sweetlip swelled tambour TRÜBNER twixt Tyburn UNIV VIMU waited by portals WALPOLE talked warm west-looking window-seat White's
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89 psl. - The ladies of St. James's! They're painted to the eyes; Their white it stays for ever, Their red it never dies: But Phyllida, my Phyllida!
101 psl. - You had no thought or presage Into what keeping you dismissed Your simple old-world message ! A reverent one. Though we to-day Distrust beliefs and powers, The artless, ageless things you say Are fresh as May's own flowers, Starring some pure primeval spring, Ere Gold had grown despotic...
35 psl. - HE lived in that past Georgian day, When men were less inclined to say That " Time is Gold," and overlay With toil their pleasure ; He held some land, and dwelt thereon, Where, I forget, the house is gone ; His Christian name, I think, was John, His surname, Leisure. Reynolds has painted him, a face Filled with a fine, old-fashioned grace, Fresh-coloured, frank, with ne'er a trace Of trouble shaded ; The eyes are blue, the hair is drest In plainest way, one hand is prest Deep in...
38 psl. - And watch, about the fish tank's brim, The swallows darting. He liked the well-wheel's creaking tongue, He liked the thrush that stopped and sung,He liked the drone of flies among His netted peaches ; He liked to watch the sunlight fall Athwart his ivied orchard wall ; Or pause to catch the cuckoo's call Beyond the beeches. His were the times of Paint and Patch, And yet no Ranelagh could match The sober doves that round his thatch Spread tails and sidled ; He liked their ruffling, puffed content,...
44 psl. - We read alas, how much we read ! The jumbled strifes of creed and creed With endless controversies feed Our groaning tables ; His books and they sufficed him were Cotton's "Montaigne," "The Grave" of Blair, A "Walton" much the worse for wear And "^Esop's Fables.
85 psl. - THE ladies of St. James's Go swinging to the play; Their footmen run before them, With a "Stand by! Clear the way!" But Phyllida, my Phyllida! She takes her buckled shoon, When we go out a-courting Beneath the harvest moon. The ladies of St. James's Wear satin on their backs; They sit all night at Ombre, With candles all of wax: But Phyllida, my Phyllida! She dons her russet gown, And runs to gather May dew Before the world is down.
99 psl. - And Mother's storing Apples, Prue and Me Up to our Elbows making Damson Jam: But we shall meet before a Week is gone, " 'Tis a long Lane that has no Turning,
47 psl. - Lie softly, Leisure ! Doubtless you, With too serene a conscience drew Your easy breath, and slumbered through The gravest issue ; But we, to whom our age allows Scarce space to wipe our weary brows, Look down upon your narrow house, Old friend, and miss you ! A GENTLEWOMAN OF THE OLD SCHOOL.
119 psl. - ... taken when he stopped the Harwich mail. A short time after appeared another proclamation, warning the innkeepers that the eye of the government was upon them. Their criminal connivance, it was affirmed, enabled banditti to infest the roads with impunity. That these suspicions were not without foundation, is proved by the dying speeches of some penitent robbers of that age, who appear to have received from the innkeepers services much resembling those which Farquhar's Boniface rendered to Gibbet...
90 psl. - James's ! You scarce can understand The half of all their speeches, their phrases are so grand: But Phyllida, my Phyllida ! her shy and simple words Are clear as after rain-drops the music of the birds. The ladies of St. James's ! they have their fits and freaks ; They smile on you for seconds, they frown on you for weeks : But Phyllida, my Phyllida ! come either storm or shine, From Shrove- tide unto Shrove-tide, is always true and mine.