Select Works of the British Poets: In a Chronological Series from Falconer to Sir Walter Scott with Biographical and Critical Notices. Designed as a Continuation of Dr. Aikin's British PoetsT. Wardle, 1843 - 732 Seiten |
Inhalt
| 296 | |
| 299 | |
| 303 | |
| 305 | |
| 341 | |
| 349 | |
| 356 | |
| 387 | |
| 186 | |
| 203 | |
| 209 | |
| 213 | |
| 219 | |
| 234 | |
| 241 | |
| 257 | |
| 267 | |
| 394 | |
| 400 | |
| 532 | |
| 539 | |
| 551 | |
| 582 | |
| 588 | |
| 725 | |
Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
Arion beauty behold beneath birks of Aberfeldy bless'd bosom bowsprit breast breath charms coursers cried death deep delight dread e'en fair fame fate father fear feel felt fix'd fond frae Fulham gave gentle glowing grace Greece grief grieved hand happy hast hear heart heaven hope hope and fear hour humble Indra kind knew lady lassie live look look'd Lord lyre maid mainsail mast maun mind muse never night numbers nymph o'er once pain Palemon pass'd peace pity pleasure poor praise pride proud rapture Rodmond round sacred sail scene scorn scudding seem'd shade shame ship shore sigh silent smile soft song soon soothe sorrow soul spirit sweet tale tears tempest thee thine thou thought trembling truth Twas vex'd voice wave whyles wife wind wretch wyfe wyllowe youth
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 207 - a towmond auld, sin' lint was i' the bell. XIL The cheerfu" supper done, wi' serious face, They round the ingle form a circle wide ; The sire turns o'er, wi' patriarchal grace, The big ha' Bible, anee his father's pride : His bonnet reverently is laid aside, His lyart haffets wearing thin
Seite 228 - 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' the sun : 1 will luve thee still, my dear, While the
Seite 229 - could resist my Nancy : But to see her, was to love her ; Love but her, and love for ever. Had we never loved sae kindly, Had we never loved sae blindly, Never met—or never parted, We had ne'er been broken-hearted. Fare thee weel, thou first and fairest ! Fare
Seite 219 - chapman billies leave the street, And drouthy neebors neebors meet, As market-days are wearing late, An' folk begin to tak the gate ; While we sit bousing at the nappy, An" gettin fou and unco happy, We think na on the lang Scots miles, The mosses, waters, slaps, and stiles, That lie between us and our
Seite 222 - clasped her to my bosom ! 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' tender ¡ And pledging aft to meet again, We tore oursels asunder ; But
Seite 54 - cold rocks and brambles rude ; NO :—Men, high-minded men, With powers as far above dull brutes endued Men, who their duties know, But know their rights, and knowing, dare maintain, These constitute a state ; And sovereign law, that state's collected will,
Seite 204 - thee startle At me, thy poor earth-born companion, An' fellow mortal. I doubt na, whyles, but thou may thieve ; What then ? poor beastie, thou maun live ! A daimen-icker in a thrave 'Sa sma request ; 111 get a blessin wi' the lave, And never miss't ! Thy wee bit housie, too, in ruin ! Its silly wa's the
Seite 45 - stores : These to thee, my God, we owe ; Source whence all our blessings flow ; And for these my soul shall raise Grateful vows and solemn praise. Yet should rising whirlwinds tear From its stem the ripening ear ; Should the fig tree's blasted shoot Drop her green untimely fruit; Should the vine put forth no more, Nor
Seite 227 - John, Your locks are like the snaw ; But blessings on your frosty pow, John Anderson my jo. John Anderson my jo, John, We clamb the hill thegither ; And mony a canty day, John, We've had wi* ane anither: Now we maun totter down, John, But hand and hand we'll go, And sleep thegither at the foot, John Anderson my jo. THE
Seite 220 - Ae market night, Tarn had got planted unco right ; Fast by an ingle, bleezing finely, Wi' reaming swats, that drank divinely ; And at his elbow souter Johnny, His ancient, trusty, drouthy crony ; Tarn lo'ed him like a vera brillier ; They had been fou for weeks thegither. The night drave on wi' sangs an