The Poems and Songs of William Hamilton of Bangour; Collated with the MS. Volume of His Poems, and Containing Several Pieces Hitherto Unpublished

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Page xxii - O'erspread with rising blushes, A thousand various ways they speak, A thousand various wishes. For oh ! that form so heavenly fair, Those languid eyes so sweetly smiling, That artless blush, and modest air, So fatally beguiling. Thy every look and every grace, So charm...
Page 62 - Is man no more than this? Consider him well. Thou owest the worm no silk, the beast no hide, the sheep no wool, the cat no perfume. Ha! here's three on's are sophisticated! Thou art the thing itself; unaccommodated man is no more but such a poor, bare, forked animal as thou art.
Page xxii - So fatally beguiling ; Thy every look, and every grace, So charm, whene'er I view thee, Till death o'ertake me in the chase Still will my hopes pursue thee. Then, when my tedious hours are past, Be this last blessing given, Low at thy feet to breathe my last, And die in sight of heaven.* OWER THE MUIR TO MAGGY.
Page 9 - For soon this venerable gloom Will yield a weary sufferer room ; No more a slave to Love decreed, At ease and free among the dead. Come then, ye tears, ne'er cease to flow, In full satiety of woe : , Though now the maid my heart alarms, Severe and mighty in her charms, Doom'd to obey, in bondage prest...
Page xxvii - O stay at hame, my noble lord ! " O stay at hame, my marrow! '' My cruel brother will you betray " On the dowie houms of Yarrow." " O fare ye weel, my ladye gaye ! " O fare ye weel, my Sarah ! " For I maun gae, though I ne'er return,
Page 71 - ON A DIAL IN MY GARDEN. Once at a potent leader's voice it stay'd, Once it went back when a good monarch pray'd. Mortals, howe'er we grieve, howe'er deplore, The flying shadow shall return no more. ON AN OBELISK IN MY GARDEN. View all around, the works of power divine, Inquire, explore, admire, extol, resign ; This is the whole of human kind below, Tis only giv'n beyond the grave to know. INSCRIPTION ON A DOG. Calm tho...
Page xxvi - Lang maun she weep, lang maun she, maun she weep, Lang maun she weep with dule and sorrow ; And lang maun I nae mair weil be seen Puiug the birks on the Braes of Yarrow.
Page 33 - And be that softness, love. Cease, plaintive sounds, your task is done, That anxious tender air Proves o'er her heart the conquest won, I see you melting there. Return, ye smiles, return again, Return each sprightly grace, I yield up to your charming reign, All that enchanting face. I take no outward...
Page ix - Caft up thy eyes, how bleak and bare He wanders on the tops of Yare ! Behold his footfteps dire are feen Confefl o'er ev'ry with'ring green.
Page xxvii - No youth shall ever lie there after." A. "Return, return, O mournful, mournful bride, Return and dry thy useless sorrow; Thy luver heeds nought of thy sighs, He lies a corpse on the Braes of Yarrow.

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