Reliques of Ancient English Poetry
There is one thing that matters—to set a chime of words tinkling in the minds of a few fastidious people.Logan Pearsall Smith
(Redirected from Percy's Reliques)
- Every white will have its blacke,
And every sweet its soure.
- Reliques of Ancient Poetry. Sir Cauline.
- Late, late yestreen I saw the new moone,
Wi’ the auld moon in hir arme.
- Sir Patrick Spens. Compare: "I saw the new moon late yestreen, Wi’ the auld moon in her arm", from Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border (author unknown).
- He that had neyther been kith nor kin
Might have seen a full fayre sight.
- Guy of Gisborne.
- Have you not heard these many years ago
Jeptha was judge of Israel?
He had one only daughter and no mo,
The which he loved passing well;
And as by lott,
It so came to pass,
As God’s will was.
- A Robyn,
Tell me how thy leman does.
- A Robyn, Jolly Robyn. Compare: "Hey, Robin, jolly Robin,
- Where gripinge grefes the hart wounde,
And dolefulle dumps the mynde oppresse,
There music with her silver sound
With spede is wont to send redresse.
- The blinded boy that shootes so trim,
From heaven downe did hie.
- “What is thy name, faire maid?” quoth he.
"Penelophon, O King!" quoth she.
- We ’ll shine in more substantial honours,
And to be noble we ’ll be good.
- And when with envy Time, transported,
Shall think to rob us of our joys,
You ’ll in your girls again be courted,
And I ’ll go wooing in my boys.
- King Stephen was a worthy peere,
His breeches cost him but a croune;
e held them sixpence all too deere,
Therefore he call’d the taylor loune.
He was a wight of high renowne,
And those but of a low degree;
Itt ’s pride that putts the countrye doune,
Then take thine old cloake about thee.
- A poore soule sat sighing under a sycamore tree;
Oh willow, willow, willow!
With his hand on his bosom, his head on his knee,
Oh willow, willow, willow!
- When Arthur first in court began,
And was approved king.
- Shall I bid her goe? What if I doe?
Shall I bid her goe and spare not?
Oh no, no, no! I dare not.
- But in vayne shee did conjure him
To depart her presence soe;
Having a thousand tongues to allure him,
And but one to bid him goe.
The Friar of Orders Gray (1765)
- And how should I know your true love
From many another one?
Oh, by his cockle hat and staff,
And by his sandal shoone.
- O Lady, he is dead and gone!
Lady, he's dead and gone!
And at his head a green grass turfe,
And at his heels a stone.
- Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more!
Men were deceivers ever;
One foot in sea and one on shore,
To one thing constant never.
- Weep no more, lady, weep no more,
Thy sorrowe is in vaine;
For violets pluckt, the sweetest showers
Will ne’er make grow againe.
- Compare: "Weep no more, nor sigh, nor groan, Sorrow calls no time that's gone; Violets plucked, the sweetest rain Makes not fresh nor grow again", John Fletcher, The Queen of Corinth, Act iii, scene 2.
- He that would not when he might,
He shall not when he wolda.
- Compare: "He that will not when he may, When he would he shall have nay", John Heywood, Proverbes, Part i, Chapter iii.