The Child of Elle (Anonymous Olde English Poems)
On yonder hill a castle standes,With walles and towres bedight,And yonder lives the Child of Elle,A younge and comely knighte.The ...
On yonder hill a castle standes,With walles and towres bedight,And yonder lives the Child of Elle,A younge and comely knighte.The ...
Our king he kept a false stewarde,Sir Aldingar they him call;A falser steward than he was one,Servde not in bower ...
The woefull lamentation of Jane Shore, a goldsmith's wife in London, sometime king Edward IV. his concubine. To the tune ...
Part the FirstLithe and listen, gentlemen,To sing a song I will beginne:It is of a lord of faire Scotland,Which was ...
When shawes been sheene, and shradds full fayre,And leeves both large and longe,Itt is merry, walking in the fayre forrest,To ...
IT was the time, when rest soft sliding downeFrom heauens hight into mens heauy eyes,In the forgetfulnes of sleepe doth ...
Childe Waters in his stable stoodeAnd stroakt his milke-white steede; To him a fayre yonge ladye cameAs ever ware womans ...
When as King Henry rulde this land,The second of that name,Besides the queene, he dearly lovdeA faire and comely dame.Most ...
In summer time, when leaves grow greene,And blossoms bedecke the tree,King Edward wolde a hunting ryde,Some pastime for to see.With ...
An ancient story Ile tell you anon Of a notable prince, that was called King John;And he ruled England with ...
A pleasant song of the valiant deeds of chivalry atchieved by that noble knight Sir Guy of Warwick, who, for ...
At Madge, ye hoyden, gossips scofft, Ffor that a romping wench was shee—"Now marke this rede," they bade her oft, ...
Being one day at my window all alone,So manie strange things happened me to see,As much it grieueth me to ...
"A new Courtly Sonnet, of the Ladie Greensleeves. Alas, my love, you do me wrong To cast me off discourteously ...
Alas my loue, ye do me wrong, to cast me off discurteously: And I haue loued you so long Delighting ...
Queene Elianor was a sicke woman,And afraid that she should dye;Then she sent for two fryars of France,To speke with ...
Beholde you yonge Ladyes, of hyghe parentageAnd you yonge virgyns, of eche degreHere is a pamphlet, euen mete for your ...
At Madge, ye hoyden, gossips scofft, Ffor that a romping wench was shee-- "Now marke this rede," they bade her ...
Eclogue the First. Whanne Englonde, smeethynge from her lethal wounde, From her galled necke dyd twytte the chayne awaie, Kennynge ...
In Virgynë the sweltrie sun gan sheene, And hotte upon the mees did caste his raie; The apple rodded from ...
One day, whiles that my daylie cares did sleepe, My spirit, shaking off her earthly prison, Began to enter into ...
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