Lyric Forms from France: Their History and Their Use

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Harcourt, Brace, 1922 - 527 psl.

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492 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.
370 psl. - In Flanders fields the poppies blow Between the crosses, row on row, That mark our place, and in the sky, The larks, still bravely singing, fly, Scarce heard amid the guns below. We are the dead; short days ago We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow, Loved and were loved, and now we lie In Flanders fields.
493 psl. - TELL me now in what hidden way is Lady Flora the lovely Roman ? Where's Hipparchia, and where is Thais, Neither of them the fairer woman ? Where is Echo, beheld of no man, Only heard on river and mere, — She whose beauty was more than human ? . . . But where are the snows of yester-year ? TRANSLATIONS FROM VILLON.
373 psl. - A BABY'S feet, like sea-shells pink, •^^ Might tempt, should heaven see meet, An angel's lips to kiss, we think, A baby's feet. Like rose-hued sea-flowers toward the heat They stretch and spread and wink Their ten soft buds that part and meet. No flower-bells that expand and shrink Gleam half so heavenly sweet As shine on life's untrodden brink A baby's feet.
480 psl. - Galleth the crook of the young man's elbow; / forget not, for I that youth have been. Smith was aforetime the Lothario gay. Yet once, I mind me, Smith was forced to stay Close in his room. Not calm, as I, was he; But his noise brought no pleasaunce, verily. Small ease he gat of playing on the bones, Or hammering on his stove-pipe, that I see. Behold the deeds that are done of Mrs. Jones!
41 psl. - Stryve noght, as doth the crokke with the wal. Daunte thy-self, that dauntest otheres dede; And trouthe shal delivere, hit is no drede.
477 psl. - Curly locks! Curly locks! Wilt thou be mine? Thou shalt not wash dishes Nor yet feed the swine; But sit on a cushion And sew a fine seam, And feed upon strawberries, Sugar and cream.
68 psl. - Now welcom somer, with thy sonne softe, That hast this wintres weders over-snake. Wel han they cause for to gladen ofte, Sith ech of hem recovered hath his make; Ful blisful may they singen whan they wake; Now welcom somer, with thy sonne softe. That hast this wintres weders over-shake. And driven awey the longe nightes blake...
459 psl. - It's like a book, I think, this bloomin' world, Which you can read and care for just so long, But presently you feel that you will die Unless you get the page you're readin' done, An' turn another — likely not so good ; But what you're after is to turn 'em all.
480 psl. - ... requisite tin For ransom of their salesman, that he may Go forth as other boarders go alway — As those I hear now flocking from their tea, Led by the daughter of my landlady Pianoward. This day for all my moans, Dry bread and water have been served me.

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