Poetry
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PART I. Marsk Stig he out of the country rode To win him fame with his good bright sword;At home meantide the King will bide In hope to lure his heart’s ador’d. The King sends word to the Marshal Stig That he to the fields of war should fare;Himself will deign at home to remain And take the charge of his Lady fair. In came the Marshal’s serving man, And a kirtle of green that...
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by:
Cyril Brett
INTRODUCTION Michael Drayton was born in 1563, at Hartshill, near Atherstone, in Warwickshire, where a cottage, said to have been his, is still shown. He early became a page to Sir Henry Goodere, at Polesworth Hall: his own words give the best picture of his early years here. His education would seem to have been good, but ordinary; and it is very doubtful if he ever went to a university. Besides the...
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A FROG HE WOULDA-WOOING GO A Frog he would a-wooing go, Heigho, says Rowley!Whether his Mother would let him or no. With a rowley-powley, gammon and spinach, Heigho, says Anthony Rowley! So off he set with his opera-hat, Heigho, says Rowley!And on his way he met with a Rat. With a rowley-powley, gammon and spinach, ...
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CHAPTER I. Before I commence mi short history o’ Haworth Railway, it might be as weel to say a word or two abaat Haworth itseln. It’s a city at’s little nawn, if onny, in th’ history o’ Ingland, tho thare’s no daat but it’s as oud as Methuslam, if net ouder, yet wi’ being built so far aat o’ th’ latitude o’ civilised nashuns, nobody’s scarcely nawn owt abaat it wal lately. ...
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THE THINGS THAT MATTER. NOW that I've nearly done my days, And grown too stiff to sweep or sew, I sit and think, till I'm amaze, About what lots of things I know: Things as I've found out one by one— And when I'm fast down in the clay, My knowing things and how they're done Will all be lost and thrown away. There's things, I know, as...
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by:
Anonymous
¶ Here entreth Welth, and Helth Ðâ¦ÐÑynging togethera balet of two partes, and after Ðâ¦ÐÑpeakethWelth. Why is there no curteÐâ¦ÐÑy, now I am comeI tcowe that all the people be dumeOr els Ðâ¦ÐÑo god helpe me and halydumThey were almost a fleepe.No wordes I harde, nor yet no talkingNo inÐâ¦ÐÑtrument went nor ballattes...
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No species of poetry is more ancient than the lyrical, and yet none shows so little sign of having outlived the requirements of human passion. The world may grow tired of epics and of tragedies, but each generation, as it sees the hawthorns blossom and the freshness of girlhood expand, is seized with a pang which nothing but the spasm of verse will relieve. Each youth imagines that spring-tide and love...
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HOPE AND FEARBeneath the shadow of dawn's aerial cope,With eyes enkindled as the sun's own sphere,Hope from the front of youth in godlike cheerLooks Godward, past the shades where blind men gropeRound the dark door that prayers nor dreams can ope,And makes for joy the very darkness dearThat gives her wide wings play; nor dreams that fearAt noon may rise and pierce the heart of hope.Then, when...
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NIELS EBBESEN. All his men the Count collects, And from Slesvig marched away;Never such as host was seen Or before or since that day. Into Denmark marched the Count, Followed by so fair a band;Banners twenty-four they bore, Power like theirs might none withstand. Gert the Count to Randers rode, To bad counsel lending ear;For from old it stood foretold, He should end there his...
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INTRODUCTION TO THE OCCASIONAL PIECES (POEMS 1809-1813; POEMS 1814-1816). The Poems afterwards entitled "Occasional Pieces," which were included in the several editions of the Collected Works issued by Murray, 1819-1831, numbered fifty-seven in all. They may be described as the aggregate of the shorter poems written between the years 1809-1818, which the author thought worthy of a permanent...
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