English Folk-loreD. Bogue, 1880 - Всего страниц: 290 |
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ague alludes allusion banns of marriage bees believed bells bird Book of Days Brand's Popular Antiquities bride called child Christmas church common considered Cornwall correspondent of Notes crow cuckoo cure curious custom Cuthbert Bede dead death Devonshire divination dotterel England flowers following charm formerly Fraser's Magazine Friday funeral hand head Hence Hesperides hive lady Lancashire Lancashire Folk-Lore looked Lord luck lucky magpie marriage married MICHIGAN moon morning never night nightingale Northamptonshire Notes and Queries notion omen person piece places Popular Rhymes practice prevalent prognosticate proverb quote R. A. PROCTOR rain raven regarded remedy ring robin rosemary Saturday says a correspondent says Brand Scotland Shakspeare Sir Thomas Browne snail sneeze soon soul speaking Staffordshire Sunday superstition supposed swallow tells thee told tree unlucky warts weather wedding witches woman wren Yorkshire young
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Стр. 184 - Half-hidden, like a mermaid in seaweed, Pensive awhile she dreams awake, and sees In fancy, fair St. Agnes in her bed, But dares not look behind, or all the charm is fled.
Стр. 139 - Assaying by his devilish art to reach The organs of her fancy, and with them forge Illusions as he list, phantasms, and dreams ; Or if, inspiring venom, he might taint...
Стр. 231 - The knight seeing his habitation reduced to so small a compass, and himself in a manner shut out of his own house, upon the death of his mother ordered all the apartments to be flung open, and exorcised by his chaplain, who lay in every room one after another, and by that means dissipated the fears which had so long reigned in the family.
Стр. 183 - St Agnes' Eve — Ah, bitter chill it was! The owl, for all his feathers, was a-cold ; The hare limp'd trembling through the frozen grass, And silent was the flock in woolly fold : Numb were the Beadsman's fingers, while he told His rosary, and while his frosted breath, Like pious incense from a censer old, Seem'd taking flight for heaven, without a death, Past the sweet Virgin's picture, while his prayer he saith...
Стр. 125 - A SWARM of bees in May Is worth a load of hay; A swarm of bees in June Is worth a silver spoon; A swarm of bees in July Is not worth a fly.
Стр. 68 - The Wren, the Wren, the king of all birds, St. Stephen's day was caught in the furze, Although he is little, his family's great, I pray you, good landlady, give us a treat.
Стр. 43 - Tell me but what's the natural cause, Why on a sign no painter draws The full moon ever, but the half?
Стр. 218 - The salt is spilt, to me it fell. Then, to contribute to my loss, My knife and fork were laid across ; On Friday, too ! the day I dread ! Would I were safe at home in bed ! 10 Last night (I vow to heav'n 'tis true !) Bounce from the fire a coffin flew.
Стр. 72 - As it fell upon a day In the merry month of May, Sitting in a pleasant shade Which a grove of myrtles made, Beasts did leap and birds did sing. Trees did grow and plants did spring...
Стр. 253 - March comes in like a lion and goes out like a lamb, A bushel of March dust is worth a king's ransom.