Argument.--The Sheriff of Nottingham secures the assistance of the High Sheriff, and besets the knight's castle, accusing him of harbouring the king's enemies. The knight bids him appeal to the king, saying he will 'avow' (i.e....
Argument.--The narrative of the knight's loan is for the moment dropped, in order to relate a gest of Little John, who is now (81.2) the knight's 'knave' or squire. Going forth 'upon a mery day,' Little John shoots with such sk...
Maidens tell me I am old; Let me in my glass behold Whether smooth or not I be, Or if hair remains to me. Well, or be't or be't not so, This for certainty I know, Ill it fits old men to play,...
"Child of my love, why wearest thou That pensive look and thoughtful brow? Can'st gaze abroad on this world so fair And yet thy glance be fraught with care? Roses still bloom in glowing dyes,...
Across the miles that stretch between, Through days of gloom or glad sunlight, There shines a face I have not seen Which yet doth make my world more bright.
Across the miles that stretch between, Through days of gloom or glad sunlight, There shines a face I have not seen Which yet doth make my world more bright.
Agnes went through the meadows a-weeping, Fowl are a-singing. There stood the hill-man heed thereof keeping. Agnes, fair Agnes! "Come to the hill, fair Agnes, with me,...
Dey tal me ay ban a gude faller. Ay guess dey ban right; but, yee whiz! Ef yu ever ban a gude faller, Yu know 'bout how costly it is. Ay vork op in voods since Nowember,...
"Miserrimus," and neither name nor date, Prayer, text, or symbol, graven upon the stone; Nought but that word assigned to the unknown, That solitary word, to separate...
Bud, come here to your uncle a spell, And I'll tell you something you mustn't tell - For it's a secret and shore-'nuf true, And maybe I oughtn't to tell it to you! But out in the garden, under the shade...
The whispering water rocks the reeds, And, murmuring softly, laps the weeds; And nurses there the falsest bloom That ever wrought a lover's doom. Forget me not! Forget me not! Ah! would I could forget!...
Not a breath of air Ruffles the bosom of this leafy glen. From the brook's margin, wide around, the trees Are steadfast as the rocks; the brook itself, Old as the hills that feed it from afar,...
1716 There's nae mair lands to tyne, my dear, And nae mair lives to gie: Though a man think sair to live nae mair, There's but one day to die. For a' things come and a' days gane,...
Genius of Raphael! if thy wings Might bear thee to this glen, With faithful memory left of things To pencil dear and pen, Thou would'st forego the neighbouring Rhine, And all his majesty...
Oh, it's dreadful to think in a country like this With its chances for work, and enjoyment That a man like McGuinness was certain to miss Whenever he tried for employment. ...