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" A weary lot is thine, fair maid, A weary lot is thine ! To pull the thorn thy brow to braid, And press the rue for wine ! A lightsome eye, a soldier's mien, A feather of the blue, A doublet of the Lincoln green, — No more of me you knew, My love ! No... "
Songs of Scotland, ed. by C. Mackay - 127. oldal
Szerkesztette: - 1857
Teljes nézet - Információ erről a könyvről

The Works of Walter Scott, Esq: Rokley; a poem

Walter Scott - 1813 - 444 oldal
...hind.— But hark ! our merry-men so gay Troll forth another roundelay. SONG. " A weary lot is thine, fair maid, A weary lot is thine ! To pull the thorn thy...of me you knew, My love ! No more of me you knew. I " This morn is merry June, I trow, The rose is budding fain ; But she shall bloom in winter snow,...

The Poetical Works of Walter Scott, Esq, 5. kötet

Walter Scott - 1818 - 312 oldal
...is thine, fair maid, A weary lot is thine ! To pnll the thorn tby brow to braid, And press the rne for wine ! A lightsome eye, a soldier's mien, A feather of the blne, A donblet of the Lincoln green, — No more of me yon knew, My love ! No more of me yon knew....

The poetical works of sir Walter Scott, 6. kötet

sir Walter Scott (bart.) - 1823 - 342 oldal
...— But hark ! our merry men so gay Troll forth another roundelay." — " A weary lot is thine, fair maid, A weary lot is thine ! To pull the thorn thy...morn is merry June, I trow, The rose is budding fain ; liut she shall bloom in winter snow, Ere we two meet again." — He turn'd his charger as lie spake,...

The Poetical Works of Sir Walter Scott: Complete in One Volume

Walter Scott - 1827 - 678 oldal
...But hark ! our merry-men so gay Troll forth another roundelay.» SONG. MA weary lot is thine, fair maid, A weary lot is thine ! To pull the thorn thy brow to braid, And press tbe rue for wiue! Л lightsome eye, a soldier's mien, A fc.ilhcr of the blue, Л doublet of the Lincoln...

The Scottish Songs, 1. kötet

Robert Chambers - 1829 - 408 oldal
...When nature all is sad like me !* A WEARY LOT IS THINE. SIR WALTER SCOTT. A WEARY lot is thine, fair maid, A weary lot is thine ! To pull the thorn thy...Lincoln green,— No more of me you knew, My love I No more of me you knew. This morn is merry June, I trow, The rose is budding, fain ; But it shall...

The Universal Songster, Or, Museum of Mirth: Forming the Most Complete ...

1834 - 480 oldal
...drink King George for ever. A WEARY LOT IS THINE, FAIR MAID. (Walter Scott.) A WEARY lot is thine, fair maid, A weary lot is thine ! To pull the thorn thy...doublet of the Lincoln green,— No more of me you know, My love ! No more of me you know. ' This morn, merry June, I trow, The rose is budding fain ;...

The Universal Songster and Museum of Mirth: A Collection of ..., 2. kötet

1835 - 320 oldal
...her dreams will be So sweet she will wake no more! A WEARY LOT IS THINE. A WEARY lot is thine, fair maid, A weary lot is thine; To pull the thorn thy...press the rue for wine. A lightsome eye, a soldier's mein, A doublet of the Lincoln green, No more of me you know, My love! No more of me you know. This...

The Poetical Works of Sir Walter Scott: With a Sketch of His Life

Walter Scott, J. W. Lake - 1838 - 496 oldal
...But hark ! our merry-men so gay Trull forth another roundelay." SONG. " A weary lot is thine, fair maid, A weary lot is thine! To pull the thorn thy...to braid, And press the rue for wine! A lightsome eve, a soldier's mien, A feather oi the blue, A doublet of the Lincoln green, — No more of me you...

Rokeby; a poem

sir Walter Scott (bart.) - 1842 - 270 oldal
...— But hark ! our merry-men so gay Troll forth another roundelay, Song. " A weary lot is thine, fair maid, A weary lot is thine ! To pull the thorn thy...you knew, My love ! No more of me you knew. " This mom is merry June, I trow, The rose is hudding fain ; But she shall hloom in winter snow, Ere we two...

The Poetical Works of Sir Walter Scott, Bart: Complete in One Volume. With ...

Walter Scott - 1841 - 848 oldal
...Troll forth another roundelay."—3 •• A weary lot is thine, fair maid, A weary lot is thine 1 seen, From Hastings, late their English lord, Douglas had won them by the sword.6 The sun tha mien,3 A feather of the blue, A doublet of the Lincoln green, — No more of me you knew, My love!...




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