The Harp of Renfrewshire, 2d Series: A Collection of Songs and Other Poetical Pieces, (many of which are Original), Accompanied with Notes, Explanatory, Critical, and Biographical

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A. Gardner, 1873 - 494 páginas
 

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Página 172 - The burn sang to the trees. And we with Nature's heart in tune. Concerted harmonies; And on the knowe abune the burn, For hours thegither sat In the silentness o' joy, till baith Wi
Página 201 - A CLOUD lay cradled near the setting sun ; A gleam of crimson tinged its braided snow : Long had I watched the glory moving on, O'er the still radiance of the lake below...
Página 256 - Who, as she smiles in the silvery light, Spreading her wings on the bosom of night, Alone on the deep, as the moon in the sky, A phantom of beauty could deem with a sigh, That so lovely a thing is the mansion of sin, And souls that are smitten lie bursting within.
Página 167 - GIVER ! I kiss thee. Dull builders of houses, base tillers of earth, Gaping, ask me what lordships I owned at my birth ; But the pale fools wax mute when I point with my sword East, west, north, and south, shouting,
Página 171 - How cheeks brent red wi' shame, Whene'er the scule-weans laughin' said, We cleek'd thegither hame ? And mind ye o' the Saturdays (The scule then skailt at noon), When we ran aff to speel the braes — The broomy braes o...
Página 173 - I've wandered west, I've borne a weary lot; But in my wanderings, far or near, Ye never were forgot. The fount that first burst frae this heart Still travels on its way; And channels deeper, as it rins, The luve o' life's young day. O dear, dear Jeanie Morrison, Since we were sindered young, I've never seen your face, nor heard The music o...
Página 170 - But blacker fa' awaits the heart Where first fond luve grows cule. 0 dear, dear Jeanie Morrison, The thochts o' bygane years Still fling their shadows owre my path, And blind my een wi...
Página 172 - Wi' very gladness grat. Aye, aye, dear Jeanie Morrison, Tears trinkled doun your cheek, Like dew-beads on a rose, yet nane Had ony power to speak ! That was a time, a blessed time, When hearts were fresh and young, When freely gushed all feelings forth, Unsyllabled — unsung ! I marvel, Jeanie Morrison, Gin I hae been to thee As closely twined wi...
Página 274 - By dreams that make night shadows bright, And truths that turn our day to night, By childhood's smile, and manhood's tear, By pleasure's day, and sorrow's year, By all the strains that fancy sings, And pangs that time so surely bring. For joy or grief — for hope or fear, For all hereafter — as for here, In peace or strife — in storm or shine...
Página 172 - In the silentness o' joy, till baith Wi' very gladness grat. Ay, ay, dear Jeanie Morrison, Tears trinkled doun your cheek Like dew-beads on a rose, yet nane Had ony power to speak! That was a time, a blessed time. When hearts were fresh and young When freely gushed all feelings forth, Unsyllabled, — unsung ! 1 marvel, Jeanie Morrison, Gin I hae been to thee As closely twined wi...

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