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Adoration Allan Ramsay arms BALCLUTHA bard beauty became Behold beneath blessed blest bloom bonny born Braes of Yarrow breast breath busk Canynge charms cheerful clouds Cumnor DAVID MALLETT dear death delight died divine Dr Johnson e'er Edinburgh eyes fair fame father fear Fingal flame flowers frae genius Glorious grace green grove Hall head hear heart heaven hills Invermay Isaac Watts James Macpherson JANE ELLIOT Jenny king light live Lochaber Lord maid married maun mind Monody morning mournful Muse nature's ne'er never night o'er Ossian peace Peggy poem poet poetical poetry Pope praise ROBERT FERGUSSON roll rose round scene shade sigh sing Sir Charles smile soft song soul spirit spring sweet tears thee thine thou thought tongue Twas verse virtue voice waves weep wife wind wrote Yarrow youth
Page 146 - Sweet bird ! thy bower is ever green, Thy sky is ever clear ; Thou hast no sorrow in thy song, No winter in thy year...
Page 146 - O Cuckoo! shall I call thee Bird, Or but a wandering Voice? While I am lying on the grass Thy twofold shout I hear, From hill to hill it seems to pass, At once far off, and near. Though babbling only to the Vale, Of sunshine and of flowers, Thou bringest unto me a tale Of visionary hours. Thrice welcome, darling of the Spring! Even yet thou art to me No bird...
Page 145 - WEEP ye not for the dead, neither bemoan him: But weep sore for him that goeth away : For he shall return no more, Nor see his native country.
Page 120 - And babes, sweet-smiling babes, our bed. How should I love the pretty creatures, While round my knees they fondly clung! To see them look their mother's features, To hear them lisp their mother's tongue! And when with envy time transported Shall think to rob us of our joys, You'll in your girls again be courted, And I'll go wooing in my boys.
Page 305 - E'en from the grave thou shalt have power to charm. Bid them be chaste, be innocent, like thee; Bid them in duty's sphere as meekly move; And if so fair, from vanity as free, As firm in friendship, and as fond in love, — Tell them...
Page 129 - My master carries me to church, And often am I blamed Because I leave him in the lurch As soon as text is named ; I leave the church in sermon-time And slink away to Sally ; She is the darling of my heart, And she lives in our alley.
Page 53 - Brutes find out where their talents lie : A bear will not attempt to fly ; A founder'd horse will oft debate, Before he tries a five-barr'd gate; A dog by instinct turns aside, Who sees the ditch too deep and wide.
Page 102 - ... deprived my soul of rest, And raised such tumults in my breast ; For while I gazed, in transport tost. My breath was gone, my voice was lost : III.