The British Poets: Including Translations ...

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C. Whittingham, 1822
 

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الصفحة 129 - As fair art thou, my bonnie lass, So deep in luve am I, And I will luve thee still, my dear, Till a' the seas gang dry. Till a" the seas gang dry, my dear, And the rocks melt wi
الصفحة 177 - Let him follow me! By oppression's woes and pains! By your sons in servile chains! We will drain our dearest veins, But they shall be free! Lay the proud usurpers low! Tyrants fall in every foe! Liberty's in every blow!
الصفحة 205 - Yestreen, when to the trembling string The dance gaed thro' the lighted ha', To thee my fancy took its wing, I sat, but neither heard nor saw: Tho' this was fair, and that was braw, And yon the toast of a' the town, I sigh'd, and said amang them a', 'Ye are na Mary Morison.
الصفحة 142 - Had we never lov'd sae kindly Had we never lov'd sae blindly Never met - or never parted, We had ne'er been broken-hearted!
الصفحة 125 - Flow gently, sweet Afton ! among thy green braes, Flow gently, sweet river, the theme of my lays ! My Mary's asleep by thy murmuring stream — Flow gently, sweet Afton ! disturb not her dream ! THE SMILING SPRING.
الصفحة 111 - John Anderson, my jo. John Anderson, my jo, John, We clamb the hill thegither; And monie 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.
الصفحة 178 - Wear hoddin-grey 2 , and a' that ; Gie fools their silks, and knaves their wine, A man's a man, for a' that. For a
الصفحة 129 - That's sweetly play'd in tune. As fair art thou, my bonnie lass, So deep in luve am I : And I will luve thee still, my dear, Till a
الصفحة 175 - 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...
الصفحة 142 - AE fond kiss, and then we sever; Ae fareweel, alas, for ever ! Deep in heart-wrung tears I'll pledge thee, Warring sighs and groans I'll wage thee. Who shall say that fortune grieves him While the star of hope she leaves him ? Me, nae cheerfu' twinkle lights me ; Dark despair around benights me.

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