Scotia's Bards: The Choice Productions of the Scottish Poets, with Brief Biographical SketchesRobert Carter & Brothers, 1856 - 563 páginas |
Dentro del libro
Página 207
... it energy , love gave it birth . Where , on thy dewy wing , Where art thou journeying ? Thy lay is in heaven , thy love is on earth . O'er fell and fountain sheen , O'er moor and mountain green , O'er the red streamer that heralds the ...
... it energy , love gave it birth . Where , on thy dewy wing , Where art thou journeying ? Thy lay is in heaven , thy love is on earth . O'er fell and fountain sheen , O'er moor and mountain green , O'er the red streamer that heralds the ...
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Términos y frases comunes
ALEXANDER BETHUNE art thou bairns beams beauty beneath Blackwood's Magazine blessed bloom bonnie bosom breast breath bright brow burn canna Casa Wappy cauld cheek child cloud Colonsay dark dear death deep dreams e'er earth fair Fairy-Queen Farewell father Fingal flowers frae friends gentle grave green hame hand happy hast hath hear heart heaven hills Jean Jehovah land light lonely look Lord maid mair maun morning mother MOTHERWELL mountain mourn ne'er never night o'er Ossian pale poems poet poor rill ROBERT GILFILLAN ROBERT NICOLL ROBERT TANNAHILL round Roxburghshire Sabbath Scotland Scottish silent sing sleep smile song sorrow soul sound spirit spring stream sweet tears thee There's thine thou thought tree Twas vale voice wandering wave weary weel weeping wild WILLIAM THOM Willie wind younkers youth
Pasajes populares
Página 147 - Perhaps the Christian volume is the theme : How guiltless blood for guilty man was shed ; How He who bore in heaven the second name Had not on earth whereon to lay his head : How his first followers and servants sped ; The precepts sage they wrote to many a land ; How he who, lone in Patmos banished, Saw in the sun a mighty angel stand; And heard great Bab'lon's doom pronounced by Heaven's command. Then kneeling down, to Heaven's Eternal King The saint, the father, and the husband prays : Hope "...
Página 142 - The black'ning trains o' craws to their repose : The toil-worn cotter frae his labour goes, This night his weekly moil is at an end, Collects his spades, his mattocks, and his hoes, Hoping the morn in ease and rest to spend, And weary o'er the moor, his course does hameward bend. At length his lonely cot appears in view, Beneath the shelter of an aged tree ; Th' expectant wee-things, toddlin, stacher through To meet their dad, wi' flichterin noise an
Página 148 - And decks the lily fair in flow'ry pride, Would, in the way His wisdom sees the best, For them and for their little ones provide ; But chiefly, in their hearts with grace divine preside.
Página 252 - When reposing that night on my pallet of straw, by the wolf-scaring faggot that guarded the slain, at the dead of the night a sweet vision I saw, and thrice ere the morning I dreamt it again.
Página 5 - These, as they change, Almighty Father, these Are but the varied God. The rolling year Is full of thee. Forth in the pleasing Spring Thy beauty walks, thy tenderness and love. Wide flush the fields ; the softening air is balm ; Echo the mountains round ; the forest smiles : And every sense and every heart is joy.
Página 263 - A wet sheet and a flowing sea, A wind that follows fast, And fills the white and rustling sail, And bends the gallant mast; And bends the gallant mast, my boys, While, like the eagle free, Away the good ship flies, and leaves Old England on the lee. O for a soft and gentle wind!
Página 375 - An angel-guard of loves and graces lie ; Around her knees domestic duties meet, And fire-side pleasures gambol at her feet. Where shall that land, that spot of earth be found? " Art thou a man — a patriot ? look around, O thou shalt find, howe'er thy footsteps roam, That land thy country, and that spot thy home.
Página 7 - Ye forests, bend, ye harvests, wave, to HIM; Breathe your still song into the reaper's heart, As home he goes beneath the joyous moon.
Página 8 - There let the shepherd's flute, the virgin's lay, The prompting seraph, and the poet's lyre, Still sing the God of Seasons, as they roll. For me, when I forget the darling theme, Whether the blossom blows, the Summer ray Russets the plain, inspiring Autumn gleams, Or Winter rises in the blackening east ; Be my tongue mute, may fancy paint no more, And, dead to joy, forget my heart to beat.
Página 115 - What time the daisy decks the green, Thy certain voice we hear ; Hast thou a star to guide thy path, Or mark the rolling year I Delightful visitant ! with thee I hail the time of flowers, And hear the sound of music sweet From birds among the bowers.