Lays of the Minnesingers Or German Troubadours of the Twelfth and Thirteenth CenturiesEdgar Taylor Longman, Hurst, Rees, Orme, Brown and Green, 1825 - 326 strani |
Druge izdaje - Prikaži vse
Lays of the Minnesingers Or German Troubadours of the Twelfth and Thirteenth ... Celotni ogled - 1825 |
Pogosti izrazi in povedi
13th century ancient appear Ausias March auzel ballads beauteous beauty bestow bien birds blest bloom bluomen bright Castilian chan CHRISTINE DE PISAN clage cotemporaries court cuer dame delight descort dialect dieus Emperor eyes feeling flors flowers following song France Frauenlob Frederic French frouwe German poetry grief hast hath heart heide Henry honour hope of succours Italian king king of Navarre Klingesor knight l'alba tan tost lady fair land Landgrave of Thuringia language lips literature lyric lyric poetry Manesse Mastersingers meadows meien merry Minnesingers minstrels morn ne'er nightingale o'er original perhaps Petrarch Philip Augustus pieces pine poem poetic poets pride princes probably Provençal quan racter rimes romances rose sigh sing singers smile sorrow soul specimens spirit spring Suabian sweet taste thee thine thou thought tongue translation Troubadours TROUVÈRES verse Wartburg watchsongs weise Wolfram
Priljubljeni odlomki
Stran 228 - THE beautiful spring delights me well, When flowers and leaves are growing ; And it pleases my heart to hear the swell Of the birds' sweet chorus flowing, In the echoing wood ; And I love to see, all scattered around, Pavilions and tents on the martial ground ; And my spirit finds it good To see, on the level plains beyond, Gay knights and steeds caparison'd.
Stran 135 - Sumer is icumen in, Lhude sing cuccu ! Groweth sed, and bloweth med, And springth the wude nu, Sing cuccu ! " Awe bleteth after lomb, Lhouth after calve cu ; Bulluc sterteth, bucke verteth, Murie sing cuccu ! "Cuccu, cuccu, well singes thu, cuccu, Ne swik thu naver nu ; Sing, cuccu, nu, sing, cuccu, Sing, cuccu, sing, cuccu, nu !
Stran 37 - For, lo, the winter is past, The rain is over and gone ; The flowers appear on the earth ; The time of the singing of birds is come, And the voice of the turtle is heard in our land ; The fig-tree putteth forth her green figs, And the vines with the tender grapes give a good smell. Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away.
Stran 152 - In a snowy vest, There grass is growing, With dewdrops glowing, And flowers are seen On beds so green. All down in the grove, Around, above, Sweet music floats ; As now loudly vying, Now softly sighing, The nightingale 's plying Her tuneful notes, And joyous at spring Her companions sing.
Stran 203 - There strayed I in that hour. Roaming on, the nightingale Sang sweetly in my ear ; And by the greenwood's shady side A dream came to me there ; Fast by the fountain, where bright flowers Of sparkling hue we see, Close sheltered from the summer beat, That vision came to me.
Stran 162 - Hath banished care, finds many a joy: And I too would be gay, Were the load of pining care away; Were my lady kind, my soul were light, — Joy crowning joy would raise its flight. . . The flowers, leaves, hills, the vale, and mead. And May with all its light...
Stran 166 - WHO would summer pleasures try, Let him to the meadows hie. O'er the mountain, in the vale, Gladsome sounds and sights prevail : In the fields fresh flowers are springing. In the boughs new carols singing, Richly in sweet harmony There the birds new music ply. This is all thine own, sweet May ! As thy softer breezes play, Snow and frost-work melt away. Old and young, come forth ! for ye Winter-bound again are free ; Up ! ye shall not grieve again. Look upon that verdant plain, Its gloomy robe no...
Stran 235 - OJ how sweet the breeze of April Breathing soft, as May draws near, While through nights serene and gentle Songs of gladness meet the ear. Every bird his well-known language Warbling in the morning's pride, Revelling on in joy and gladness By his happy partner's side...
Stran 143 - WouLD I the lofty spirit melt Of that proud dame who dwells so high, Kind Heaven must aid me, or unfelt By her will be its agony. Joy in my soul no place can find : As well might I a suitor be To thunderbolts, as hope her mind Will turn in softer mood to me. Those cheeks are beautiful, are bright As the red rose with dewdrops graced; And faultless is the lovely light Of those dear eyes, that, on me placed, Pierce to my very heart, and fill My soul with love's consuming fires, While passion burns...
Stran 229 - is echoing loud ; And there on the earth the lowly and proud In the fosse together lie ; And yonder is piled the mangled heap Of the brave that scaled the trench's steep.