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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... "
The Scottish Songs - 14. oldal
szerző: Robert Chambers - 1829
Teljes nézet - Információ erről a könyvről

Rokeby;: A Poem

Walter Scott - 1813 - 333 oldal
...like tyger on the hind. — But hark ! our merry-men so gay Troll forth another roundelay. 8 ON G. 11 A weary lot is thine, fair maid, A weary lot is thine...Lincoln green, — No more of me you knew, My love ! No more of me you knew. " This morn is merry June, I trow, The rose is budding fain ; But she shall...

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

Sir Walter Scott - 1813
...spring like tyger on the 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...Lincoln green, — No more 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...

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

Walter Scott - 1818
...like tiger on the hind. — Bnt hark ! onr merry-men so gay Troll forth another ronndelay. SONG. " A weary lot 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...

The Esquimaux; or, Fidelity, 3 vols, 1. kötet

Emily Clark - 1819 - 803 oldal
...the servants, in the ancient and extensive mansion at Treharne. CHAPTER III. A weary lot is ihine, fair maid, A weary lot is thine, To pull the thorn thy braw to braid, And press the rue for wine. Collection of Songi. " I CANNOT imagine what is the matter...

The poetical works of Walter Scott, 7. kötet

sir Walter Scott (bart.) - 1820
...like tyger on the 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...Lincoln green, — No more of me you knew, My love ! No more of me you knew. " This morn is merry June, I trow, The rose is budding fain ; But she shall...

The poetical works of sir Walter Scott, 6. kötet

sir Walter Scott (bart.) - 1823
...spring like tyger on the hind. — But hark ! our merry men so gay Troll forth another roundelay." — " A weary lot is thine, fair maid, A weary lot is thine...Lincoln green, — No more of me you knew, My love ! No more of me you knew. " This morn is merry June, I trow, The rose is budding fain ; liut she shall...

The songs of Scotland, ancient and modern; with an intr. and notes ..., 3. kötet

Allan Cunningham - 1825
...I've tint, Or heal the heart of Annie; Speak to thy God of thy broken vows, For thou hast broken many. A WEARY LOT IS THINE. SIR WALTER SCOTT. A weary lot...the Lincoln green, No more of me you knew, My love! No more of me you knew. This morn is merry June, I trow ; The rose is budding fain ; But it shall bloom...

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

Walter Scott - 1827 - 489 oldal
...like tiger on the hind. — 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 - 370 oldal
...which was part of a song written by one of his friends:-" And maun I still on Menie doat, BURNS. 13 A WEARY LOT IS THINE. SIR WALTER SCOTT. A WEARY lot...Lincoln green,— No more of me you knew, My love ! No more of me you knew. This morn is merry June, I trow, The rose is budding fain ; But it shall...

The Poetical Works of Sir Walter Scott

Walter Scott - 1831 - 490 oldal
...like tiger on the hind. — But hark ! our merry-men *o gay Troll forth another roundelay.** SONG. - A weary lot is thine, fair maid, A weary lot is thine!...Lincoln green, — No more of me you knew, My love ! No more of me you knew. « This morn is merry June, I trow, The rose is budding fain, But she ahull...




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