Kyng of all{.e} kyng{.e}s
To here Son{.e} sche ches.
He cam also stylle
There his moder was
As dew in Aprylle
That fallyt on the gras;
He cam also stylle
To his moderes bowr
As dew in Aprille
That fallyt on the flour;
He cam also stylle
There his moder lay
As dew in Aprille
That fallyt on the spray;
Moder and maydyn
Was never non but sche;
Wel may swych a lady
God{.e}s moder be.
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Half a mile, half a mile,
Right through the Georgia troopsBroke the two hundred.‘Forward the Mule Brigade!Charge for the Rebs,’ they neighed.Straight for the Georgia troopsBroke the two hundred.‘Forward the Mule Brigade!’Was there a mule dismayed?Not when their long ears feltAll their ropes sundered.Theirs not to make reply,Theirs not to reason why,Theirs but to make Rebs fly.On! to the Georgia troopsBroke…
Godfrey Gordon Gustuvus Gore
His Father would Plead and mother imploreGodfrey Gordon Please Shut the door.
Breathe not a whisper here;
In silence gather near this upheaved mound –Around the soldier’s bier.Here Liberty may weep,And Freedom pause in her unchecked career,To pay the sacred tribute of a tearO’er the pale warrior’s sleep.That arm now cold in death,But late on glory’s field triumphant boreOur country’s flag; that marble brow once boreThe victor’s fadeless wreath.Rest soldier, sweetly rest;Affection’s…
IN DAT GREAT GITTIN’-UP MORNIN’
Fare you well, Fare you well,Dere ’s a better day a-comin’,When my Lord speaks to his Fader,Says, Fader, I ’m tired o’ bearin’,Tired o’ bearin’ for poor sinners:O preachers, fold your Bibles;Prayer-makers, pray no more,For de last soul’s converted.In dat great gittin’-up Mornin’,Fare you well, Fare you well.De Lord spoke to Gabriel:Say, go look behind…
The night is dark, and keen the air,
His parting word is one short prayer;O God, but give me Liberty!Farewell-farewell;Behind I leave the whips and chains,Before me spreads sweet Freedom’s plains.One star shines in the heavens above,That guides him on his lonely way;-Star of the North-how deep his loveFor thee, thou star of Liberty!Farewell-farewell;Behind he leaves the whips and chains,Before him spreads sweet…
Day is done,
From the hills,from the lake,From the sky.All is well,safely rest,God is nigh.Go to sleep,peaceful sleep,May the soldieror sailor,God keep.On the landor the deep,Safe in sleep.Love, good night,Must thou go,When the day,And the nightNeed thee so?All is well.Speedeth allTo their rest.Fades the light;And afarGoeth day,And the starsShineth bright,Fare thee well;Day has gone,Night is on.Thanks and praise,For…
Kyng of all{.e} kyng{.e}s
To here Son{.e} sche ches.
He cam also stylle
There his moder was
As dew in Aprylle
That fallyt on the gras;
He cam also stylle
To his moderes bowr
As dew in Aprille
That fallyt on the flour;
He cam also stylle
There his moder lay
As dew in Aprille
That fallyt on the spray;
Moder and maydyn
Was never non but sche;
Wel may swych a lady
God{.e}s moder be.
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Many a man doth speake of mee,
For all in one, doe full agreeThat no where must my dwelling bee.
ME thus often the evil monsters
the darling, I dealt them due return!Nowise had they bliss from their booty thento devour their victim, vengeful creatures,seated to banquet at bottom of sea;but at break of day, by my brand sore hurt,on the edge of ocean up they lay,put to sleep by the sword. And since, by themon the fathomless sea-ways sailor-folkare never…
My Phillida, adieu love!
Ay me! I’ve lost my true love,And thus I ring her knell,Ding dong, ding dong, ding dong,My Phillida is dead!I’ll stick a branch of willowAt my fair Phillis’ head.For my fair PhillidaOur bridal bed was made;But ‘stead of silkes so gay,She in her shroud is laid.Ding dong, ding dong, ding dong.Her corpse shall be attendedBy…
The Turnament of Tottenham; or, the Wooeing, Winning, and Wedding of Tibbe, the Reev’s Davghter There.
Of fele feyztyng folk ferly we fynde;The Turnament of Totenham have we in mynde;It were harme sych hardynes were holden byhynde,In story as we redeOf Hawkyn, of Herry,Of Tomkyn, of Terry,Of them that were dughtyAnd stalworth in dede.It befel in Totenham on a dere day,Ther was mad a shurtyng be the hyway;Theder com al the…
Then a powerful demon, a prowler through the dark,
to hear the din of the loud banquetevery day in the hall, the harp being struckand the clear songs of a skilled poettelling the mastery of man’s beginnings,How the Almighty had made the eartha gleaming plain girdled with waters;in his splendour He set the sun and the moonto be earth’s lamplight, lanterns for men,and filled…
In God is all my trust.
The yongest sone of Jervis Hendley, of Corsworne in Cramkebrocke, Gent’man known to be,Who gave a house, and also land, the Fifteene for to paye,And to relieve the people pore of this parishe for ayeHe died the day of from Him that Judas soldA thousand five hundredth and ninety yere, being eightie nine yeres ould,Protesting…