Waly, Waly, But Love Be Bonny (Anonymous British Poems)
O, waly, waly up the bank,And waly, waly down the brae,And waly, waly yon burn-side,Where I and my love wont ...
O, waly, waly up the bank,And waly, waly down the brae,And waly, waly yon burn-side,Where I and my love wont ...
I, with whose colours Myra dress'd her head,I, that ware posies of her own hand-making,I, that mine own name in ...
Have you been at Carrick, and saw my true-love there?And saw you her features, all beautiful, bright, and fair?Saw you ...
There were three maidens met on the highway; The sun was down, the night was late: And two sang loud ...
FU' yellow lie the corn rigs Far doun the braid hillside; It is the brawest harst field Alang the shores ...
What shall I your true-love tell, Earth-forsaking maid? What shall I your true-love tell, When life's spectre's ...
The wind doth blow today, my love,And a few small drops of rain;I never had but one true-loveIn cold grave ...
Ye silent shades, whose each tree here Some relique of a saint doth wear; Who for some sweet-heart's sake, did ...
When I behold a forest spread With silken trees upon thy head; And when I see that other dress Of ...
His Remedy for Love Since to obtain thee nothing will be stead, I have a med'cine that shall cure my ...
Upon this Primrose hill, Where, if Heav'n would distil A shower of rain, each several drop might go To his ...
O SING unto my roundelay, O drop the briny tear with me; Dance no more at holyday, Like a running ...
``With Donne, whose muse on dromedary trots, Wreathe iron pokers into true-love knots ; Rhyme's sturdy cripple, fancy's maze and ...
My true-love hath my heart, and I have his, By just exchange, one for the other giv'n. I hold his ...
I weep for Adonais -he is dead! O, weep for Adonais! though our tears Thaw not the frost which binds ...
I weep for Adonais--he is dead! Oh, weep for Adonais! though our tears Thaw not the frost which binds so ...
O mistress mine, where are you roaming? O stay and hear! your true-love's coming That can sing both high and ...
SORC'RESS of the Cave profound! Hence, with thy pale, and meagre train, Nor dare my roseate bow'r profane, Where light-heel'd ...
Tis believed that this Harp, which I wake now for thee Was a Siren of old, who sung under the ...
SECTION ONE "Give the engines room, Give the engines room." Louder, faster The little band-master Whips up the fluting, Hurries ...
"O Trade! O Trade! would thou wert dead! The Time needs heart -- 'tis tired of head: We're all for ...
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