The book of British ballads . d strawberries red, and mulberries blue, Refresh each elfs luxurious lip. With nod, and beck, and wreathed smile,They heap their jewelled patines high ; Nor want their mirthful airs the whileTo crown the festive revelry. A minstrel dwarf, in silk arrayed,Lay on a mossy bank, oer which The wild thyme wove its fragrant braid,The violet spread its perfume rich ; And whilst a page at Oberons kneePresented high the wassail-cup, This lay the little bard with gleeFrom harp of ivory offered up : Health to our sovereign !—fill, brave boy,Yon glorious goblet to the brim! Th
The book of British ballads . d strawberries red, and mulberries blue, Refresh each elfs luxurious lip. With nod, and beck, and wreathed smile,They heap their jewelled patines high ; Nor want their mirthful airs the whileTo crown the festive revelry. A minstrel dwarf, in silk arrayed,Lay on a mossy bank, oer which The wild thyme wove its fragrant braid,The violet spread its perfume rich ; And whilst a page at Oberons kneePresented high the wassail-cup, This lay the little bard with gleeFrom harp of ivory offered up : Health to our sovereign !—fill, brave boy,Yon glorious goblet to the brim! Theres joy—in every drop theres joyThat laughs within its charmed rim! Twas wrought within a wizards mould,When signs and spells had happiest power ;- Health to our King by wood and wold !Health to our Queen in hall and bower ! * They rise—the myriads rise, and shrillThe wild-wood echoes to their brawl, — Health to our King by wold and rill!Health to our Queen in bower and hall! A. del. T. Armsaroi1 g so. 406. ®|« Hucfe of dton-l^all A sudden thought fires Musgraves brain,—So help him all the Powers of Light, — He rushes to the festal train, And snatches up that goblet bright! With three brave bounds the lawn he crossed,The fourth it seats him on his steed ; Now, Courser! or thy lord is lost — Stretch to the stream with lightning speed! lis uproar all around, behind,— Leaps to his selle each screaming Fay,. The charmed cup is fairly tined, Stretch to the strife,—away ! away! As in a whirlwind forth they swept, The green turf trembling as they passed; But forward still good Musgrave kept, —The shallow stream approaching fast. A thousand quivers round him rainedTheir shafts or ere he reached the shore ; But when the farther bank was gained,This song the passing whirlwind bore : Joy to thy banner, bold Sir Knight! But if yon goblet break or fall,Farewell thy vantage in the fight! — Farewell the luck of Eden-Hall! The forest cleared, he winds his ho
Size: 911px × 2745px
Photo credit: © The Reading Room / Alamy / Afripics
License: Licensed
Model Released: No
Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1840, bookidg, bookpublisherlondonjhow
