Stromliederen (Margot Vos Poems)
IZie, de luchten waaien tot een duister ruimEn de wind wordt vrijheer van den vloedEn de bladers dansen op z'n ...
IZie, de luchten waaien tot een duister ruimEn de wind wordt vrijheer van den vloedEn de bladers dansen op z'n ...
Zij graven goud, en vinden goud;"_Goud_" heet het tooverwoord!Dat jaagt de morders, jong en oud,Van haard en have voort.Voor goud ...
Kom niet, Schoonheid, eer we u zijn bereidIn ons huis, in ons te ontvangen;Kom niet voor de Wereld openleitBreede bedding ...
Hoe laat is 't aan den tijd? Het is de blanke dageraad: De diepe wei waar nog geen maaier gaat, Staat van bedauwde ...
Ah! ken ye what I met the dayOut oure the MountainsA coming down by craggis greyAn mossie fountains --A goud ...
Ja, valsch en bedrieglijk, met doornen bezwaard,Met neevlen omsluierd, is 't leven op aard:Toch weet ik een hoekjen, dat Eden ...
BerlijnIk heb iets bijna schoons aanschouwdHier waar de jacht der oppervlakkigheidAl schoone dingen veil voor goudBezitten wil, en dus ontwijdt-Ik ...
It fell about the Martinmas tyde,When our Border steeds get corn and hayThe captain of Bewcastle hath bound him to ...
I.—THIS SIDE AN' THAT.The rich man sat in his father's seat—Purple an' linen, an' a'thing fine!The puir man lay at ...
O wha will shoe my fu' fair foot?And wha will glove my hand?And wha will lace my middle jimp,Wi' the ...
O Waly, waly, up the bank, O wary, waly, doun the brae, And waly, waly, yon burn-side, Where I and my love wer wont to gae! I lean'd my back unto an aik, I thocht it was a trustie tree, But first it bow'd and syne it brak',— Sae my true love did lichtlie me. O waly, waly, but love be bonnie A little time while it is new! But when its auld it waxeth cauld, And fadeth awa' like the morning dew. O wherefore should I busk my heid, Or wherefore should I kame my hair? For my true love has me forsook, And says he'll never lo'e me mair. Noo Arthur's seat sall be my bed. The sheets sall neir be press'd by me; Saint Anton's well sall be my drink; Since my true love's forsaken me. Martinmas wind, when wilt thou blaw, And shake the green leaves off the tree? O gentle death, when wilt thou come? For of my life I am wearie. 'Tis not the frost that freezes fell, Nor blawing-snaw's inclemencie, 'Tis not sic cauld that makes me cry; But my love's heart grown cauld to me. Whan we cam' in by Glasgow toun, We were a comely sicht to see; My love was clad in the black velvet, An' I mysel' in cramasie. But had I wist before I kiss'd That love had been so ill to win, I'd lock'd my heart in a case o' goud, And pinn'd it wi' a siller pin. Oh, oh! if my young babe were born, And set upon the nurse's knee; And I mysel' were dead and gane, And the green grass growing over me!(Anonymous Americas)
In London city was Bicham born,He longd strange countries for to see,But he was taen by a savage Moor,Who handld ...
The king sits in Dunfermline town,Drinking the blude-red wine o:"O whare will I get a skeely skipperTo sail this new ...
Sweep up the flure, Janet;Put on anither peat.It's a lown and a starry nicht, Janet,And nowther cauld nor weet.It's the ...
Ik wil tasten den Boom, die in den nacht Verrijst van de wazige aarde ...Ik zie hem niet; ik zie ...
Isola Madre, waar uw geel kasteelMet blinde ramen hoog in zuid-zon gloeide,Was 't dat de bark aan rots'ge trappen roeide ...
Rose o' my hert,Open yer leaves to the lampin mune;Into the curls lat her keek an' dert,She'll tak the colour ...
Annie she's dowie, and Willie he's wae:What can be the matter wi' siccan a twae,For Annie she's fair as the ...
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