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" yet shall whet a sword • That thro' thy soul shall gae ! The weeping blood in woman's breast Was never known to thee ; Nor th' balm that draps on wounds of woe. Frae woman's pitying e'e."* "
The National quarterly review, ed. by E.I. Sears - الصفحة 292
المحررون: - 1872
عرض كامل - لمحة عن هذا الكتاب

The Works of Robert Burns, المجلد 2

Robert Burns - 1877
...bands, And never-ending care. But as for thee, thou false woman, My sister and my fae, Grim Vengeance yet shall whet a sword That thro' thy soul shall gae...in woman's breast Was never known to thee ; Nor th' Iwlm that drops 3 on wounds of woe Frae woman's pitying e'e. My son ! my son ! may kinder stars Upon...

The poetical works of Robert Burns, ed. by C. Kent

Robert Burns - 1878
...thee, thou false woman, '97 My sister and my fae, Grim vengeance yet shall whet a sword That through thy soul shall gae: The weeping blood in woman's breast...that draps on wounds of woe Frae woman's pitying e'e. My son ! my son ! may kinder stars Upon thy fortune shine ; And may those pleasures gild thy reign...

Caledonia described by Scott, Burns and Ramsay. With illustr. by J. Macwhirter

sir Walter Scott (bart.) - 1878
...for thee, thou false woman ! My sister and my fae, Grim Vengeance yet shall whet a sword That through thy soul shall gae! The weeping blood in woman's breast Was never known to thee ; Nor the balm that draps on wounds of woe Frae woman's pitying ee. My son! my son! may kinder stars Upon...

Burns, Ramsay and the Earlier Poets of Scotland ; to which is ..., المجلد 2

Allan Cunningham, Charles Mackay - 1879
...And never-ending care. v. But as for thee, thou false woman ! My sister and my fae, Grim vengeance yet shall whet a sword That thro' thy soul shall gae...that draps on wounds of woe Frae woman's pitying e'e. тт. My son ! my son ! may kinder stars Upon thy fortune shine ; And may those pleasures gild thy...

The poetical works of Robert Burns, ed. by W.M. Rossetti. ed. by W.M ...

Robert Burns - 1879
...thee, thou false woman !— My sister and my fae, Grim Vengeance yet shall whet a sword That through thy soul shall gae ! The weeping blood in woman's breast Was never known to thee ; Nor the balm that draps on wounds of woe Frae woman's pitying ee. Upon thy fortune shine ! And may those...

Gems of national poetry. Compiled and ed. by mrs. Valentine

Laura Valentine - 1880
...for thee, thou false woman, My sister and my fae, Grim vengeance yet shall whet a sword That through thy soul shall gae: The weeping blood in woman's breast...that draps on wounds of woe Frae woman's pitying e'e. My son! my son! may kinder stars Upon thy fortune shine; And may those pleasures gild thy reign Or...

The poetical works of Robert Burns, ed. by W.M. Rossetti. ed. by W.M ...

Robert Burns - 1881
...thee, thou false woman !— My sister and my fae, Grim Vengeance yet shall whet a sword That through thy soul shall gae ', The weeping blood in woman's breast Was never known to thee ; Nor the balm that draps on wounds of woe Frae woman's pitying ee. Upon thy fortune shine ! And may those...

Poetic treasures: or, Passages from the poets

Passages, John Allen Giles - 1881 - عدد الصفحات: 644
...thee, thou false woman, My sister and my fae, Grim vengeance, yet, shall whet a sword That through thy soul shall gae : The weeping blood in woman's breast "Was never known to thee; Nor the balm that drops on wounds of woe Prae woman's pitying e'e. My son ! my son! may kinder stars Upon...

The poetical works of Robert Burns, ed. by C. Kent

Robert Burns - 1883
...for thee, thou false woman, My sister and my fae, Grim vengeance yet shall whet a sword That through thy soul shall gae: The weeping blood in woman's breast...that draps on wounds of woe Frae woman's pitying e'e. My son ! my son ! may kinder stars Upon thy fortune shine ; And may those pleasures gild thy reign...

The girls' book of poetry, a selection from British and American poets

Girls - 1883
...thou false woman ! My sister and my fae, Grim vengeance, yet, shall whet a sword That through thy saul shall gae; The weeping blood in woman's breast Was never known to thee; Nor th' balm that droops on wounds of woe Fra' woman's pitying e'e. My son ! my son ! may kinder stars Upon thy fortune...




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