Ballades and Rondeaus, Chants Royal, Sestinas, Villanelles, &c

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Appleton, 1893 - 296 psl.
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xxxix psl. - JENNY kissed me when we met, Jumping from the chair she sat in; Time, you thief, who love to get Sweets into your list, put that in! Say I'm weary, say I'm sad, Say that health and wealth have missed me, Say I'm growing old, but add, Jenny kissed me.
12 psl. - Then. hey! — for the ripple of laughing rhyme! ENVOY In the work-a-day world, — for its needs and woes, There is place and enough for the pains of prose; But...
94 psl. - MEN, brother men, that after us yet live, Let not your hearts too hard against us be; For if some pity of us poor men ye give, The sooner God shall take of you pity. Here are we five or six strung up, you see, And here the flesh that all too well we fed Bit by bit eaten and rotten, rent and shred, And we the bones grow dust and ash withal ; Let no man laugh at us discomforted, But pray to God that he forgive us all. If we call on you, brothers, to forgive...
17 psl. - The curtain falls, the play is played: The Beggar packs beside the Beau; The Monarch troops, and troops the Maid; The Thunder huddles with the Snow. Where are the revellers high and low? The clashing swords? The lover's call? The dancers gleaming row on row? Into the night go one and all.
65 psl. - I HID my heart in a nest of roses, Out of the sun's way, hidden apart ; In a softer bed than the soft white snow's is, Under the roses I hid my heart. Why would it sleep not?
246 psl. - WHEN I saw you last, Rose, You were only so high ; — How fast the time goes ! Like a bud ere it blows, You just peeped at the sky, When I saw you last, Rose ! Now your petals unclose, Now your May-time is nigh ; — How fast the time goes ! And a life, — how it grows ! You were scarcely so shy, When I saw you last, Rose...
26 psl. - He lived in a cave by the seas, He lived upon oysters and foes, But his list of forbidden degrees, An extensive morality shows ; Geological evidence goes To prove he had never a pan, But he shaved with a shell when he chose, — 'Twas the manner of Primitive Man.
65 psl. - ... charm encloses, It never was writ in the traveller's chart, And sweet on its trees as the fruit that grows is, It never was sold in the merchant's mart. The swallows of dreams through its dim fields dart, And sleep's are the tunes in its tree-tops heard; No hound's note wakens the wildwood hart, Only the song of a secret bird.
9 psl. - King Philip had vaunted his claims ; He had sworn for a year he would sack us ; With an army of heathenish names He was coming to fagot and stack us ; Like the thieves of the sea he would track us, And...
11 psl. - That the ballad you sing is but merely "conveyed" From the stock of the Arnes and the Purcells of yore; That there's nothing, in short, in the words or the score That is not as out-worn as the "Wandering Jew," Make answer— Beethoven could scarcely do more— That the man who plants cabbages imitates, too! If they tell you, Sir Artist, your light and your shade Are simply adapted from other men's lore; That— plainly to speak of a "spade...

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