Poems, Lyrics, Songs and SonnetsHardwicke and Bogue, 1877 - 400 من الصفحات |
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عبارات ومصطلحات مألوفة
auld beaming beautiful birds bless bloom blossoms brave breath breeze bride bright brow canna charm cheek cheer clouds Coila Dalveen dark dear death deep dinna Dominie dream Duchess of Argyle E. S. Dallas earth Exile's Song eyes fair feel flowers frae friends gazed gentle glen green hair heart Heaven hills HONOUR infant bed Isle joyous kiss lass lassie life's light LILIAN GREY lippen thee lips lo'e maid maiden Mansfield matter ava maun Maurice Minnie morn mother mountain MOURNER'S HOPE Nathaniel Hawthorne ne'er night o'er RALPH DE RAYNE rapture rills ring the bells Sandy's shade sigh sing SIR RALPH sleep smile song soothe soul spirit stars stood STORM stream sweet swells tears thou thought tide trees truth Twas twilight moon vale voice wander waves weary Whilst wifie wild Willie winds wing words woven hands young
مقاطع مشهورة
الصفحة 289 - Blessings be with them — and eternal praise, Who gave us nobler loves, and nobler cares — The Poets, who on earth have made us heirs Of truth and pure delight by heavenly lays ! Oh ! might my name be numbered among theirs, Then gladly would I end my mortal days.
الصفحة xxiv - What then I was. The sounding cataract Haunted me like a passion: the tall rock, The mountain, and the deep and gloomy wood, Their colours and their forms, were then to me An appetite; a feeling and a love, 80 That had no need of a remoter charm, By thought supplied, nor any interest Unborrowed from the eye.
الصفحة 318 - Knight, afterwards Lord Keeper of the Great Seal in the reign of Queen Elizabeth.
الصفحة 7 - And wi' the lave ilk merry morn Could rank my rig and lass, Still shearing, and clearing The tither stocked raw, Wi' claivers, an' haivers, Wearing the day awa : Ev'n then a wish, (I mind its power,) A wish that to my latest hour Shall strongly heave my breast ; That I for poor auld Scotland's sake, Some usefu' plan, or beuk could make, Or sing a sang at least.
الصفحة 38 - With lofty song we love to cheer The hearts of daring men; Applauded thus, they gladly hear The trumpet's call again. But now we sing of lowly deeds Devoted to the brave, Where she, who stems the wound that bleeds, A hero's life may save: And heroes saved exulting tell How well her voice they knew; How sorrow near it could not dwell, But spread its wings and flew. Neglected, dying in despair, They lay till woman came To soothe them with her gentle care, And feed life's flickering flame.
الصفحة 6 - I LOVE my books as drinkers love their wine ; The more I drink, the more they seem divine ; With joy elate my soul in love runs o'er, And each fresh draught is sweeter than before ! Books bring me friends where'er on earth 1 be, — Solace of solitude, bonds of society.
الصفحة 116 - I'm wedded to thy glens and holms, So wild, so full of beauty; The past into the present glides, And blends with love and duty. I hear the pulsing evening breeze Among the branches beating ; My heart, attuned to winds and trees, The cadence is repeating.
الصفحة 38 - But spread its wings and flew. Neglected, dying in despair, They lay till woman came To soothe them with her gentle care, And feed life's flickering flame. When wounded sore, on fever's rack, Or cast away as slain, She called their fluttering spirits back, And gave them strength again. 'Twas grief to miss the passing face That suffering could dispel; But joy to turn and kiss the place On which her shadow fell.
الصفحة 12 - Are fed by leaf and root. The man who would be truly great Must venture to be small : On airy columns rests the dome That shining circles all. Small duties grow to mighty deeds ; Small words to thoughts of power ; Great forests spring from tiny seeds, As moments make the hour ; And life — howe'er it lowly grows, The essence to it given ; Like odour from the breathing rose, Floats evermore to heaven.
الصفحة 49 - THE BUD IS ON THE BOUGH. FRANCIS BENNOCH. " THE bud is on the bough, And the blossom on the tree ; " But the bud and the blossom Bring no joyousness to me. Wall'd up within the city's gloom, No pleasure can I know, But like a caged linnet sing To chase away my woe ! The bud will grow a blossom, The blossom...