Select Works of the British Poets: In a Chronological Series from Falconer to Sir Walter ScottThomas Wardle, 1838 - Всего страниц: 732 |
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Стр. 10
... wave , from pole to pole ; Sick of the scene , where war , with ruthless hand , Spreads desolation o'er the bleeding land ; Sick of the tumult , where the trumpet's breath Bids ruin smile , and drowns the groan of death ! " Tis mine ...
... wave , from pole to pole ; Sick of the scene , where war , with ruthless hand , Spreads desolation o'er the bleeding land ; Sick of the tumult , where the trumpet's breath Bids ruin smile , and drowns the groan of death ! " Tis mine ...
Стр. 11
... wave - worn strand ; Four days her anchors bite the golden sand : For sick'ning vapours lull the air to sleep , And not a breeze awakes the silent deep . This , when th ' autumnal equinox is o'er , And Phoebus in the north declines no ...
... wave - worn strand ; Four days her anchors bite the golden sand : For sick'ning vapours lull the air to sleep , And not a breeze awakes the silent deep . This , when th ' autumnal equinox is o'er , And Phoebus in the north declines no ...
Стр. 13
... wave embark'd once more . Oft , by pale Cynthia's melancholy light , With him Palemon kept the watch of night ! In whose sad bosom many a sigh suppress'd , Some painful secret of the soul confess'd . Perhaps Arion soon the cause divined ...
... wave embark'd once more . Oft , by pale Cynthia's melancholy light , With him Palemon kept the watch of night ! In whose sad bosom many a sigh suppress'd , Some painful secret of the soul confess'd . Perhaps Arion soon the cause divined ...
Стр. 14
... wave of Pleasure , sought From its loved object to divert my thought . With equal hope he might attempt to bind , In chains of adamant , the lawless wind : For Love had aim'd the fatal shaft too sure ; Hope fed the wound , and absence ...
... wave of Pleasure , sought From its loved object to divert my thought . With equal hope he might attempt to bind , In chains of adamant , the lawless wind : For Love had aim'd the fatal shaft too sure ; Hope fed the wound , and absence ...
Стр. 15
... wave , Too oft , alas ! the wandering lover's grave ! With soft persuasion I dispell'd her fear , And from her cheek beguiled the falling tear , While dying fondness languish'd in her eyes , She pour'd her soul to heaven in suppliant ...
... wave , Too oft , alas ! the wandering lover's grave ! With soft persuasion I dispell'd her fear , And from her cheek beguiled the falling tear , While dying fondness languish'd in her eyes , She pour'd her soul to heaven in suppliant ...
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Другие издания - Просмотреть все
Select Works of the British Poets: In a Chronological Series from Falconer ... John Aikin Полный просмотр - 1841 |
Select Works of the British Poets, in a Chronological Series from Falconer ... John Aikin Полный просмотр - 1838 |
Select Works of the British Poets,: In a Chronological Series from Falconer ... John Frost,John Aikin Недоступно для просмотра - 2015 |
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art thou auld auld lang syne beauty behold beneath birks of Aberfeldy bless'd bonnie bosom breast breath charm cried dear delight dread e'en fair fame fate father fear feel felt fix'd fond frae Fulham gentle grace grief hand hear heard heart heaven hope hope and fear hour humble knew lady lassie light live look look'd Lord maid maun mind muse ne'er never night numbers nymph o'er once pain Palemon pass'd peace Petrarch pleasure poor praise pride rest Rodmond round Sabbath sail scene scorn seem'd shifting sail shore sigh silent sleep smile song soon soothe sorrow soul spirit sweet tale tears thee thine thou art thought trembling truth turn'd Twas vex'd voice wandering wave Whyles wife wild wind wyfe wyllowe youth
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Стр. 230 - O' my sweet Highland Mary. How sweetly bloom'd the gay green birk, How rich the hawthorn's blossom, As underneath their fragrant shade I clasp'd her to my bosom ! The golden hours on angel wings Flew o'er me and my dearie ; For dear to me as light and life Was my sweet Highland Mary. Wi' mony a vow and lock'd embrace Our parting was fu...
Стр. 215 - From scenes like these old Scotia's grandeur springs, That makes her loved at home, revered abroad: Princes and lords are but the breath of kings, 'An honest man's the noblest work of God;' And certes, in fair virtue's heavenly road, The cottage leaves the palace far behind; What is a lordling's pomp? a cumbrous load, Disguising oft the wretch of human kind, Studied in arts of hell, in wickedness refin'd!
Стр. 237 - I'll ne'er blame my partial fancy, Naething could resist my Nancy ; But to see her was to love her ; Love but her, and love for ever. Had we never loved sae kindly, Had we never loved sae blindly, Never met — or never parted, We had ne'er been broken-hearted.
Стр. 215 - What makes the youth sae bashfu' an' sae grave: Weel pleased to think her bairn's respected like the lave. O happy love! where love like this is found! O heartfelt raptures! bliss beyond compare! I've paced much this weary, mortal round, And sage experience bids me this declare: — If Heaven a draught of heavenly pleasure spare, One cordial in this melancholy vale, 'Tis when a youthful, loving, modest pair In other's arms breathe out the tender tale, Beneath the milk-white thorn that scents the...
Стр. 235 - And mony a hill between ; But day and night my fancy's flight Is ever wi' my Jean. I see her in the dewy flowers, I see her sweet and fair : I hear her in the tunefu...
Стр. 64 - Where low-browed baseness wafts perfume to pride. No; Men, high-minded men, With powers as far above dull brutes endued In forest, brake or den, As beasts excel cold rocks and brambles rude ; Men who their duties know, But know their rights, and, knowing, dare maintain, Prevent the long-aimed blow, And crush the tyrant while they rend the chain ; These constitute a State; And sovereign law, that State's collected will, O'er thrones and globes elate Sits empress, crowning good, repressing ill.
Стр. 235 - John Anderson my jo. John Anderson my jo, John, We clamb the hill thegither ; And mony a canty day, John, We've had wi' ane anither : Now we maun totter down, John, But hand in hand we'll go, And sleep thegither at the foot, John Anderson my jo.
Стр. 228 - That hour o' night's black arch the key-stane, That dreary hour he mounts his beast in, And sic a night he taks the road in, As ne'er poor sinner was abroad in. The wind blew as 'twad blawn its last ; The rattling...
Стр. 236 - Thou minds me o' the happy days When my fause luve was true. " Thou'll break my heart, thou bonie bird That sings beside thy mate ; For sae I sat, and sae I sang, And wist na o' my fate. " Aft hae I rov'd by bonie Doon, To see the woodbine twine, And ilka bird sang o' its love, And sae did I o
Стр. 216 - Heaven their simple lives prevent From luxury's contagion, weak and vile ! Then, howe'er crowns and coronets be rent, A virtuous populace may rise the while, And stand, a wall of fire, around their much-loved isle.