Airs to the songsJ. Johnson, 1783 - Ballads, English |
Common terms and phrases
a-way air known Air unknown Allegro Andante Arne BALLAD beauty bleſs'd bottle's the fun bow'rs Carey caſt charms chearful Chloe CORRECTIONS AND ADDITIONAL cuckow Damon dear defire drink Drop-ing e-ver eaſe eyes fair falſe figh fing firſt flain flocks flow'rs fong foon foul fweet gentle give glaſs grove HARRY CAREY heart Henry Lawes Henry Purcell hey down der-ry hither John Blow king la la la laſs leſs lover Michael Arne mild ale Moderato moſt muſe muſic muſt ne'er nymph o'er paffion pain pleaſing pleaſure pow'r roſe ſay ſee Set by dr Shakſpeare ſhall ſhe ſhepherd ſhould ſigh ſoft ſome ſong SONG VII SONG VIII SONG XI SONG XLII SONG XXX SONG XXXIII SONG XXXVII ſpeak ſpring ſtate ſtill ſtream ſung ſwain ſweet tell thee theſe thoſe thou tune verſe whoſe winds wine XLVII XXXVI youth
Popular passages
Page 28 - Who love to be told where good claret's in store, Attend to the call Of one who's ne'er frighted, But greatly delighted, With six bottles more : Be sure you don't pass The good house Money-glass, Which the jolly red god so peculiarly owns ; 'Twill well suit your humour. For pray what would you more, Than mirth, with good claret, and bumpers, Squire Jones.
Page 28 - No glory I covet ! no riches I want ! Ambition is nothing to me ! The one thing I beg of kind Heaven to grant, Is a mind independent and free.
Page xxxviii - No more of my Harriot, of Polly no more, Nor all the bright beauties that charm'd me before; My heart for a slave to gay Venus I've sold, And barter'd my freedom for ringlets of gold: I'll throw down my pipe, and neglect all my flocks, And will sing to my lass with the golden locks. Tho...
Page 5 - Shakespeare would dream, The fairies by moonlight dance round his green bed For hallow'd the turf is which pillow'd his head.
Page lii - Where we will sit upon the rocks, And see the shepherds feed their flocks, By shallow rivers, to whose falls Melodious birds sing madrigals. And I will make thee beds of roses, And...
Page xcvii - THE Women all tell me, I'm false to my Lass ; That I quit my poor CHLOE, and stick to my Glass But to you, Men of Reason, my reasons I'll own ; And if you don't like them, why, let them alone ! Although I have left her, the truth I'll declare!