#English #Victorians #XIXCentury #1878 #ABookOfMiscellaneousLyrics
MUST all the passion which I’ve… So long to hide be paid with scorn… And must a bosom framed for love, Be doomed a hopeless love to mourn… And must thou still its homage spu…
‘SWEET Billy Taylor went to sea… Bravo, my metre ballad-monger! ‘With silver buckles on his knee!’ Another stave—a little longer! ‘When he comes back he’ll marry me…
’TIS little Robin Redbreast Was piping on the spray, ‘And pray, mamma, what shall we do To bring him up this way?’ Mamma into the pantry goes,
‘ADIEU!’ she cried, and with tha… Adown the star-lit valley fleeted, And Echo from her tower on high, With cruel tongue, the word repeat… ‘What?—Never!’ cried I, yet posse…
O, THE bugle-horn I heard last n… Its wild tones set the echoes flyi… And night long in my soul, Deligh… Danced, danced her gift for dancin… Such tones, I swear a magic bear,
I THANK my God I ever lived to… When the spirit’s immortality to m… Not by a logic might be made some… But by a flash of inner light too… Long, long can death, be death ind…
How long shall injustice prevail? How long shall the weak rue the st… The children of Poland bewail The yoke of the Russian?—How long… Lo! one generation goes by,
TRUTH’S words are oft so very t… And always when my lips he uses, His foes, which let us hope, are f… Declare he but the truth abuses. Thus when he spake of Ella’s tong…
DON’T spur us so: you’ll ever fi… When you will ride at giddy paces There’s always something in the wi… At which ere long you’ll twist you… What, we’re but steeds whom no one…
LO, a fairy on a day Came and bore my heart away; But as she secured her prize, Sweetest smiles illumed her eyes. And, hey, lerry O!
THE Hartley men are noble, and Ye’ll hear a tale of woe; I’ll tell the doom of the Hartley… The year of sixty-two. ’Twas on a Thursday morning, on
IF Ellerton Willy be slighted by… Yet others as bonny will hark to h… Then why like a silly bit daffodow… Should I droop my head, droop, an… Chorus:—Then why should pine Will…
AS I came down from Earsdon Town… A-lilting of a lay, Whom did I meet but she, the swee… The blue-eyed Lotty Hay. A crimson blush her cheek did flus…
THO’ many a moon had roll’d away Since Essex at the block had died… The Queen upon her night-couch la… And o’er his end horrific sighed. “Oh Essex, oh! my joy and woe
LITTLE Anna, cruel elf, Spite of all my reason, She, she puts me from myself, In and out of season; Ah, the imp! ah, the shrimp!