G. A. Burger et les origines anglaises de la ballade littéraire en Allemagne

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Hachette, 1889 - 276 pàgines
 

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Passatges populars

Pàgina 109 - But mine the sorrow, mine the fault, And well my life shall pay; I'll seek the solitude he sought, And stretch me where he lay. And there, forlorn, despairing, hid, I'll lay me down and die: 'Twas so for me that Edwin did, And so for him will I.
Pàgina 15 - C'est qu'on fut malheureux de ne pouvoir vous plaire. VADIUS. Il faut qu'en écoutant j'aie eu l'esprit distrait , Ou bien que le lecteur m'ait gâté le sonnet. Mais laissons ce discours , et voyons ma ballade. TRISSOTIN. La ballade, à mon goût, est une chose fade: Ce n'en est plus la mode ; elle sent son vieux temps.
Pàgina 246 - If I should come within thy bower, I am no earthly man; And should I kiss thy rosy lips, Thy days will not be lang. "O sweet Margret, O dear Margret, 25 I pray thee speak to me; Give me my faith and troth, Margret, As I gave it to thee.
Pàgina 118 - Lullabye, my owne deere child ! Lullabye, deere child, deere ! I wold thy father were a king, Thy mother layd on a beere ! 38 ' Peace now,' he said, ' good Faire Ellen, And be of good cheere, I thee pray, And the bridall and the churching both, They shall bee vpon one day.
Pàgina 149 - There's no room at my side, Margret, My coffin is made so meet. Then up and crew the red red cock, And up then crew the gray: Tis time, tis time, my dear Margret, That I were gane away.
Pàgina 107 - Yet stay, fair lady, turn again, And dry those pearly tears; For see, beneath this gown of gray Thy own true-love appears. "Here forced by grief and hopeless love, These holy weeds I sought; And here, amid these lonely walls, To end my days I thought.
Pàgina 246 - Now she has kilted her robes of green A piece below her knee, And a' the live-lang winter night The dead corp followed she.
Pàgina 150 - Hic, quos durus amor crudeli tabe peredit, Secreti celant calles et myrtea circum Silva tegit : curae non ipsa in morte relinquunt.
Pàgina 246 - ... my faith and troth, Margret, As I gave it to thee." "Thy faith and troth thou's never get, Nor yet will I thcc lend, Till that thou come within my bower, And kiss my cheek and chin.

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