Kritische schriften, Band 2

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Seite 38 - Whan, lo ! he beheld fair Emmelines page Come trippinge downe the dale. The Child of Elle he hyed him thence, Y-wis he stoode not stille, And soone he mette faire Emmelines page Come climbing up the hille.
Seite 38 - And stood at his garden pale, Whan, lo! he beheld fair Emmelines page Come trippinge downe the dale. The Child of Elle he hyed him thence, Y-wis he stoode not stille...
Seite 39 - For, ah ! her gentle heart is broke, And in grave soone must shee bee, Sith her father hath chose her a new, new love, And forbidde her to think of thee. Her father hath brought her a carlish knight, Sir John of the north countraye, And within three dayes shee must him wedde, Or he vowes he will her slaye.
Seite 38 - My lady shee is all woe-begone, And the teares they fall from her eyne ; And aye she laments the deadlye feude Betweene her house and thine. And here shee sends thee a silken scarfe Bedewde with many a teare, And biddes thee sometimes thinke on her, Who loved thee so deare. And here shee sends thee a ring of golde...
Seite 39 - Nowe hye thee backe, thou little foot-page, And greet thy ladye from mee, And telle her that I her owne true love Will dye, or sette her free. Nowe hye thee backe, thou little foot-page, And let thy fair ladye know This night will I bee at her bowre-windowe. Betide me weale or woe.
Seite 356 - Notice des tableaux des écoles primitives de l'Italie, de l'Allemagne et de plusieurs autres tableaux de différentes écoles exposés dans le grand salon du Musée royal ouvert le 25 juillet 1814.
Seite 51 - Sayes, Christ you save, and see : My girdle of gold that was too longe, Is now too short for mee. And all is with one chyld of yours, I feele sturre att my side : 10 My gowne of greene it is too straighte ; Before, it was too wide.
Seite 41 - All this beheard her owne damselle, In her bed whereas shee ley, Quoth shee, My lord shall knowe of this, Soe I shall have golde and fee. Awake, awake, thou baron bolde! Awake, my noble dame! Your daughter is fledde with the Child of Elle To doe the deede of shame. The baron he woke, the baron he rose, And called his merrye men all: "And come thou forth, Sir John the knighte, Thy ladye is carried to thrall.
Seite 40 - And thrice he claspde her to his breste, And kist her tenderlie : The tears that fell from her- fair eyes Ranne like the fountayne free.
Seite 38 - And the teares they falle from her eyne; And aye shee laments the deadlye feude Betweene her house and thine. And here shee sends thee a silken skarfe Bedewde with many a teare, And bids thee sometimes thinke on her, Who loved thee so deare. And here shee sends thee a ring of golde The last boone thou mayst have, And biddes thee weare it for her sake, When she is layde in...

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