Select Works of the British Poets: In a Chronological Series from Falconer to Sir Walter ScottJohn Aikin Whetham, 1841 - 732 sider |
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Side 10
... breath Bids ruin smile , and drowns the groan of death ! " Tis mine , retired beneath this cavern hoar , That stands all lonely on the sea - beat shore , Far other themes of deep distress to sing Than ever trembled from the vocal string ...
... breath Bids ruin smile , and drowns the groan of death ! " Tis mine , retired beneath this cavern hoar , That stands all lonely on the sea - beat shore , Far other themes of deep distress to sing Than ever trembled from the vocal string ...
Side 18
... breath the waters fly . Its weight the topsails can no more sustain : ' Reef topsails , reef ! ' the boatswain calls again ! Scud is a name given by seamen to the lowest clouds , which are driven with great rapidity along the atmo ...
... breath the waters fly . Its weight the topsails can no more sustain : ' Reef topsails , reef ! ' the boatswain calls again ! Scud is a name given by seamen to the lowest clouds , which are driven with great rapidity along the atmo ...
Side 24
... breath , In dark dismay anticipating death . Still all our powers th ' increasing leaks defy : We sink at sea , no ... breathing rites abhorr'd : Trembling approach'd their incantations fell , And , chill'd with horror , heard the songs ...
... breath , In dark dismay anticipating death . Still all our powers th ' increasing leaks defy : We sink at sea , no ... breathing rites abhorr'd : Trembling approach'd their incantations fell , And , chill'd with horror , heard the songs ...
Side 27
... breathe in human breasts celestial flame . The kindling spirit caught th ' empyreal ray , And glow'd congenial with ... breath With vital force dissolved the chains of death ; Each bard in Epic lays began to sing , Taught by the master ...
... breathe in human breasts celestial flame . The kindling spirit caught th ' empyreal ray , And glow'd congenial with ... breath With vital force dissolved the chains of death ; Each bard in Epic lays began to sing , Taught by the master ...
Side 33
... breath , So Heaven befriend him at his hour of death ! But O , to lovely Anna shouldst thou tell What dire untimely end thy friend befell , Draw o'er the dismal scene soft Pity's veil ; And lightly touch the lamentable tale : Say that ...
... breath , So Heaven befriend him at his hour of death ! But O , to lovely Anna shouldst thou tell What dire untimely end thy friend befell , Draw o'er the dismal scene soft Pity's veil ; And lightly touch the lamentable tale : Say that ...
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Select Works of the British Poets,: In a Chronological Series from Falconer ... John Frost,John Aikin Ingen forhåndsvisning - 2015 |
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art thou auld auld lang syne beauty behold beneath birks of Aberfeldy bless'd bonnie bosom breast breath call'd charms cried dear delight dread e'en fair fame fate father fear feel felt fix'd fond frae Fulham Gaur gave gentle grace grief grieved hand hast hear heard heart heaven honour hope hope and fear hour humble kind knew lady lassie live look look'd lord maid maun mind muse ne'er never night numbers nymph o'er once pain Palemon pass'd peace pleasure poor praise pride rapture rest Rodmond round scene scorn seem'd shifting sail shore sigh silent smile song soon soothe sorrow soul spirit sweet tale tears thee thine thou art thought trembling truth Twas vex'd voice whyles wife wild wind wretched wyfe wyllowe youth
Populære passager
Side 234 - But an honest man's aboon his might, Guid faith he mauna fa' that ! For a' that, and a' that, Their dignities, and a' that) The pith o' sense, and pride o' worth, Are higher ranks than a' that. Then let us pray that come it may, As come it will for
Side 234 - fare we dine, Wear hoddin gray, and a' that ¡ Gic fools their silks, and knaves their wine, A man's a man for a' that ; For a' that, and a' that, Their tinsel show, and a' that •, The honest man, though e'er sae poor, Is king o' men for a
Side 234 - be free ! Lay the proud usurpers low ! Tyrants fall in every foe ! Liberty's in every blow ! Forward ! let us do, or die ! FOR A' THAT, AND A' THAT. Is there, for honest poverty, That hangs his head, and a' that ; The coward slave, we pass him by, We dare be poor for a
Side 216 - Be bless'd with health and peace, and sweet content ! And 0 may 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. XXI. 0 Thou ! who pour'd the patriotic tide That
Side 212 - a weary nibble ! Now thou's turn'd out, for a' thy trouble, But house or hald, To thole the winter's sleety dribble, An' cranreuch cauld.' But, mousie, thou art no thy lane, In proving foresight may be vain : The best laid schemes o' mice an' men, Gang aft a-gley, An
Side 53 - which broke this day, Triumphant from the tomb ! This day be grateful homage paid, And loud hosannas sung ; Let gladness dwell in every heart, And praise on every tongue. Ten thousand differing lips shall join To hail this welcome morn, Which scatters blessings from its wings, To nations yet unborn. Jesus the friend of human kind,
Side 218 - And guileless trust, Till she, like thee, all soil'd is laid Low ¡' the dust. Such is the fate of simple bard, On life's rough ocean luckless starr'd ! Unskilful he to note the card Of prudent lore, Till billows rage, and gales blow hard, And whelm him o'ei
Side 216 - through Wallace's undaunted heart ; Who dared to nobly stem tyrannic pride, Or nobly die, the second glorious part, (The patriot's God, peculiarly thou art, His friend, inspirer, guardian, and reward !) 0 never, never, Scotia's realm desert: But still the patriot, and the patriot bard, In bright succession raise, her ornament and guard ! MAN WAS MADE TO MOURN. A
Side 212 - thee startle At me, thy poor earth-born companion, An' fellow mortal. I doubt na, whyles, but thou may thieve •, What then ? poor beastie, thou maun live ! A daimen-icker in a thrave 'Sa sma request ; I'll get a blessin wi' the lave, And never miss't ! Thy wee bit housie, too, in
Side 227 - had siller ; That every naig was ca'da shoe on, The smith and thee gat roaring fou on ; That at the L—d's house, e'en on Sunday, Thou drank wi' Kirton Jean till Monday. She prophesied, that late or soon, Thou would be found deep drown'd in Doon ¡ Or catch'd wi