Gottfried August Bürger: sein Leben und seine DichtungenGustav Mayer, 1856 - 184 páginas |
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alten Altengleichen Althof Aschersleben Aurbach Ausg Ausgabe Ballade Bande bekannt Bendir Bettelstolz Biographie Blumenlese Briefe Bürgers Gedichten Bürgerschen Gedichte damals deffen deſſen deutschen Dichter dieſer Dietrich Menschenschreck Döring ebenda Einfluß erſchien erst erzählt Falkenstein feiner fich find findet folgende Frau Freunde G. A. Bürger Gedichte Geist gewiß Gleim Göckingk Gottfried August Bürgers Göttingen Göttingische Musenalmanach Grab Graf groß großen Günther Halberstadt Halle Hand Haus Heinrich Pröhle heißt Herr Herz hohen iſt Jahre jezt Kind konnte laß laſſen läßt Lenore lezte lich Liebe Lied ließ Mann Märchen Margarethe Molly Molmerswende Musenalmanach muß müſſen mußt Mutter Nacht Namen Pädagogium Pansfelde Perch Poet poetischen Pröhle Quedlinburg Reinhard Sage scheint Schiller Schrift ſehr ſei ſein ſeiner ſelbſt ſich ſie soll später Strophe Theil Thlr Thränen Todten Ueber Ueberseßung unserer Uslar Vater Vergl viel vielleicht Volk Volkslied Weib Weinsberg weiß Werke Wernigerode Werth Westorf wieder wilden Jäger Wilhelm wohl Worte zwei
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Página 150 - And will he not come again ? And will he not come again ? No, no, he is dead, Go to thy death-bed, He never will come again.
Página 149 - He is dead and gone, lady, He is dead and gone, At his head a grass-green turf, At his heels a stone.
Página 149 - Now Christ thee save, thou reverend friar, I pray thee tell to me, If ever at yon holy shrine My true love thou didst see. " And how should I know your true love, From many another one?
Página 150 - Sigh no more, lady, sigh no more, Men were deceivers ever : One foot on sea and one on land, To one thing constant never. Hadst thou been fond, he had been false, And left thee sad and heavy ; For young men ever were fickle found, Since summer trees were leafy.
Página 150 - O stay me not I pray ; No drizzly rain that falls on me, Can wash my fault away.
Página 149 - plaining of her pride. " Here bore him bare-faced on his bier Six proper youths and tall; And many a tear bedew'd his grave Within yon kirk-yard wall." " And art thou dead, thou gentle youth ! And art thou dead and gone ! And didst thou die for love of me ! Break, cruel heart of stone !" " Oh weep not, lady, weep not so ; Some ghostly comfort seek ; Let not vain sorrow rive thy heart, Nor tears bedew thy cheek.
Página 150 - Weep no more, lady, weep no more, Thy sorrow is in vain ; For violets plucked, the sweetest showers Will ne'er make grow again. " Our joys as winged dreams do fly ; Why then should sorrow last? Since grief but aggravates thy loss, Grieve not for what is past.
Página 150 - Weep no more, lady, weep no more, Thy sorrow is in vain ; For violets plucked, the sweetest showers Will ne'er make grow again.
Página 102 - Is there any room at your head, Willie? Or any room at your feet? Or any room at your side, Willie, Wherein that I may creep?
Página 102 - Now she has kilted her robes of green A piece below her knee, And a' the live-lang winter night The dead corp followed she.