Beauties of the Scottish poets, or Harp of Renfrewshire, a collection of songs and other poetical pieces, with notes, and a short essay on the poets of Renfrewshire [by W. Motherwell. Re-issue of the harp of Renfrewshire, with cancel title-leaf].1821 |
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Página 37
... sleeping on thy tomb . Spring on thy mountains laughs the while , Thy green woods wave in vernal air , But the lov'd scenes may vainly smile , Not e'en thy dust is there . On thy blue hills no bugle sound Is mingling with the torrent's ...
... sleeping on thy tomb . Spring on thy mountains laughs the while , Thy green woods wave in vernal air , But the lov'd scenes may vainly smile , Not e'en thy dust is there . On thy blue hills no bugle sound Is mingling with the torrent's ...
Página 54
... SLEEP NOT , MOSCA . A Lapland Song . O sleep not , Mosca , but wait for thy love , Tho ' the night be cold and drear , I fear not the blast , or the mountain steep , But speed with my swift Rein - deer . While cheer'd , my love , by ...
... SLEEP NOT , MOSCA . A Lapland Song . O sleep not , Mosca , but wait for thy love , Tho ' the night be cold and drear , I fear not the blast , or the mountain steep , But speed with my swift Rein - deer . While cheer'd , my love , by ...
Página 61
... sleep , While my hour I keep , For angels , to - night , shall watch and weep . O , Green Isle ! -woe to thy hope and pride ! To - day thy rose was bright and glowing ; The bud was full , the root was wide , And the streams of love ...
... sleep , While my hour I keep , For angels , to - night , shall watch and weep . O , Green Isle ! -woe to thy hope and pride ! To - day thy rose was bright and glowing ; The bud was full , the root was wide , And the streams of love ...
Página 115
... SLEEPING BEAUTY . Sleep on , and dream of heaven a - while , Though shut so close thy laughing eyes ; Thy rosy lips still wear a smile , And move and breathe delicious sighs . Ah ! now soft blushes tinge her cheeks , And 115.
... SLEEPING BEAUTY . Sleep on , and dream of heaven a - while , Though shut so close thy laughing eyes ; Thy rosy lips still wear a smile , And move and breathe delicious sighs . Ah ! now soft blushes tinge her cheeks , And 115.
Página 116
... sleeps , A seraph in the realms of rest ! Sleep on , secure , above controul , Thy thoughts belong to heaven and thee , And may the secrets of thy soul Be held in reverence by me . LXXIX . O POORTITH CAULD AND RESTLESS LOVE . AIR - I ...
... sleeps , A seraph in the realms of rest ! Sleep on , secure , above controul , Thy thoughts belong to heaven and thee , And may the secrets of thy soul Be held in reverence by me . LXXIX . O POORTITH CAULD AND RESTLESS LOVE . AIR - I ...
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Beauties of the Scottish Poets, Or Harp of Renfrewshire, a Collection of ... Scottish Poets,Renfrew County Prévia não disponível - 2016 |
Termos e frases comuns
Alderney Arthurlie Bard beauty birken blaw bloom Blythely bonny lassie bonny Peggy bosom bower braes breast breath bright Buttermere cauld charms cheek dear death delight e'en e'er Ellen fair father flower frae Francis Sempill gane genius glow gude hame happy heart heaven ilka Jean Adam John Sim Johnny Katy lady lass little sweep lo'e lov'd lover maid Mary maun morning mourn nae mair native ne'er never night o'er owre Paisley peace pleasure poem poet poetical poor quhat R. A. Smith Renfrewshire Robert Sempill Robert Tannahill rose round Scotish Scotland Sempill sigh sing sleep smile song sorrow soul sung sweet sweetly Tannahill tear thair thee There's thine thou thro tree Twas wander warl wave weary weel weep wild Willy wind wyllowe yon burn side youth
Passagens mais conhecidas
Página 336 - Take, oh take those lips away, That so sweetly were forsworn; And those eyes, the break of day, Lights that do mislead the morn; But my kisses bring again, bring again, Seals of love, but seal'd in vain.
Página 4 - By the struggling moonbeam's misty light, And the lantern dimly burning. No useless coffin enclosed his breast, Not in sheet nor in shroud we wound him; But he lay like a warrior taking his rest, With his martial cloak around him. Few and short were the prayers we said, And we spoke not a word of sorrow; But we steadfastly gazed on the face of the dead, And we bitterly thought of the morrow.
Página 283 - Go, lovely Rose ! Tell her that wastes her time and me, That now she knows, When I resemble her to thee, How sweet and fair she seems to be. Tell her that's young, And shuns to have her graces spied, That had'st thou sprung In deserts where no men abide, Thou must have uncommended died. Small is the worth Of beauty from the light retired : Bid her come forth, Suffer herself to be desired, And not blush so to be admired. Then die ! that she The common fate of all things rare May read in thee, —...
Página 138 - She is far from the land where her young hero sleeps, And lovers around her are sighing; But coldly she turns from their gaze and weeps, For her heart in his grave is lying.
Página 414 - With coral clasps and amber studs: And if these pleasures may thee move, Come live with me and be my love.
Página 384 - FAINTLY as tolls the evening chime, Our voices keep tune and our oars keep time. Soon as the woods on shore look dim, We'll sing at St. Ann's our parting hymn. Row, brothers, row, the stream runs fast, The Rapids are near and the daylight's past.
Página 273 - THE YOUNG MAY MOON. THE young May moon is beaming, love, The glow-worm's lamp is gleaming, love, How sweet to rove Through Morna's grove,* When the drowsy world is dreaming, love ! Then awake ! — the heavens look bright, my dear, 'Tis never too late for delight, my dear, And the best of all ways To lengthen our days Is to steal a few hours from the night, my dear.
Página 416 - The flowers do fade, and wanton fields To wayward Winter reckoning yields: A honey tongue, a heart of gall, Is fancy's spring, but sorrow's fall. Thy gowns, thy shoes, thy beds of roses, Thy cap, thy kirtle, and thy posies, Soon break, soon wither — soon forgotten...
Página 3 - NOT a drum was heard, not a funeral note, As his corse to the rampart we hurried; Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot O'er the grave where our hero we buried.
Página 5 - We thought, as we hollowed his narrow bed, And smoothed down his lonely pillow, That the foe and the stranger would tread o'er his head, And we far away on the billow ! Lightly they'll talk of the spirit that's gone, And o'er his cold ashes upbraid him ; But little hell reck if they let him sleep on In the grave where a Briton has laid him...