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alliteration ancient appears arms ballad beauty Bessee brave called cause copy death doth downe Earl edition Edward England English entitled face fair fall father fear fight folio gallant give gold grace hand hast hath head heare heart heire Henry John kind king knight lady land late letter light lines Linne live London looked lord Mary metre mind never noble original play poem poets poor pray present prince printed probably queene quoth rest Rosamond sayd Scotland Scots seems seen shee song soon speake stand stanza sweet tanner tell thee thing thinke Thomas thou took true unto verse wold writer written young
Page 370 - Why so pale and wan, fond lover? Prithee, why so pale? Will, when looking well can't move her, Looking ill prevail? Prithee, why so pale?
Page 336 - An old song, made by an aged old pate, Of an old worshipful gentleman who had a great estate, That kept a brave old house at a bountiful rate, And an old porter to relieve the poor at his gate...
Page 332 - The first is to tell him there in that stead, With his crowne of golde so fair on his head, Among all his liege-men so noble of birth, To within one penny of what he is worth. " The seconde, to tell him, without any doubt, How soone he may ride this whole world about.
Page 345 - Enlarged winds, that curl the flood, Know no such liberty. Stone walls do not a prison make, Nor iron bars a cage; Minds innocent and quiet take That for an hermitage; If I have freedom in my love And in my soul am free, Angels alone, that soar above, Enjoy such liberty.
Page 85 - Till quite dejected with my scorn, He left me to my pride ; And sought a solitude forlorn, In secret, where he died. " But mine the sorrow, mine the fault, And well my life shall pay ; I'll seek the solitude he sought, And stretch me where he lay.
Page 396 - But who the expected husband husband is ? His hands, methinks, are bath'd in slaughter : Ah me ! what ghastly spectre's yon Comes in his pale shroud, bleeding after ? Pale as he is, here lay him, lay him down, O lay his cold head on my pillow ; Take aff, take aff, these bridal weids, And crown my careful head with willow. Pale tho...
Page 330 - Abbot of Canterburye ; How for his house-keeping, and high renowne, They rode poste for him to fair London towne. An hundred men, the king did heare say, The abbot kept in his house every day ; And fifty golde chaynes, without any doubt, In velvet coates waited the abbot about.