English and Scottish Ballads, 第 2 巻

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Francis James Child
Little, Brown, 1864
 

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Review: The English And Scottish Popular Ballads

ユーザー レビュー  - Angie - Goodreads

I love the old mountain ballads, so this collection is must-have for my library. レビュー全文を読む

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212 ページ - Curst be the heart that thought the thought. And curst the hand that fired the shot. When in my arms burd ' Helen dropt. And died to succour me ! O think na ye my heart was sair, When my love dropt down and spak...
117 ページ - O hold your hand, Lord William!" she said, "For your strokes they are wondrous sair; True lovers I can get many a ane, But a father I can never get mair.
249 ページ - What gat ye to your dinner. Lord Randal, my son ? What gat ye to your dinner, my handsome young man ? "— 10 " I gat eels boil'd in broo; mother, make my bed soon, For I'm weary wi' hunting, and fain wald lie down...
211 ページ - I wish I were where Helen lies ! Night and day on me she cries ; And I am weary of the skies, For her sake that died for me.
248 ページ - I hae been to the wild wood; mother, make my bed soon, For I'm weary wi' hunting, and fain wald lie down.' 'Where gat ye your dinner, Lord Randal, my son? Where gat ye your dinner, my handsome young man?
50 ページ - Their beds are made in the heavens high, Down at the foot of our good lord's knee, Weel set about wi' gillyflowers : , I wot sweet company for to see.
125 ページ - LORD THOMAS and Fair Annet Sate a' day on a hill ; Whan night was cum, and sun was sett, They had not talkt their fill. 2 Lord Thomas said a word in jest, Fair Annet took it ill : ' A, I will nevir wed a wife Against my ain friends
70 ページ - Blow up the fire, my maidens! Bring water from the well! For a' my house shall feast this night, Since my three sons are well.
48 ページ - But he lay still, and sleeped sound, Albeit the sun began to sheen; She looked atween her and the wa', And dull and drowsie were his e'en. Then in and came her father dear ; Said, — " Let a' your mourning be : I'll carry the dead corpse to the clay, And I'll come back and comfort thee.
211 ページ - Curst be the heart that thought the thought, And curst the hand that fired the shot, When in my arms Burd Helen dropt, And died to succour me ! 0 think na ye my heart was sair, When my love dropt down and spak' nae mair ! There did she swoon wi' meikle care, On fair Kirconnell lea.

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