Beauties of the Scottish poets, or Harp of Renfrewshire, a collection of songs and other poetical pieces, with notes, and a short essay on the poets of Renfrewshire [by W. Motherwell. Re-issue of the harp of Renfrewshire, with cancel title-leaf]. |
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Seite lxix
And shall I see his face again , And shall I hear him speak ! I ' m downright dizzy
wi ' the thought , In troth I ' m like to greet . For there ' s nae , fc . If Colin ' s weel , I '
m weel content , I hae dae mair to crave . And gin I live to keep him sae , I ' m ...
And shall I see his face again , And shall I hear him speak ! I ' m downright dizzy
wi ' the thought , In troth I ' m like to greet . For there ' s nae , fc . If Colin ' s weel , I '
m weel content , I hae dae mair to crave . And gin I live to keep him sae , I ' m ...
Seite 37
Thy gates are clos ' d , thy halls are still , Those halls where swell ? d the choral
strain , · They hear the wild winds murmuring shrill , And all is hush ' d again . Thy
Bard his pealing harp has broke ; His fire - his joy of song is past ; - - One lay to ...
Thy gates are clos ' d , thy halls are still , Those halls where swell ? d the choral
strain , · They hear the wild winds murmuring shrill , And all is hush ' d again . Thy
Bard his pealing harp has broke ; His fire - his joy of song is past ; - - One lay to ...
Seite 140
And when evening comes so still , How sweet to hear , from yonder hill , The
gurgling sound of rapid rill Fall on the ear harmoniously . How sweet to hear ,
from yonder grove , The mavis tune his note to love , While , bless ' d with thee , I
fondly ...
And when evening comes so still , How sweet to hear , from yonder hill , The
gurgling sound of rapid rill Fall on the ear harmoniously . How sweet to hear ,
from yonder grove , The mavis tune his note to love , While , bless ' d with thee , I
fondly ...
Seite 397
And oh ! at glimpse of early morn , When early monks their beads are telling , *
Tis sweet to hear the hunter ' s horn , From glen to mountain wildly swelling . And
it is sweet , at mid - day houř , Beneath the forest oak reclining , To hear the ...
And oh ! at glimpse of early morn , When early monks their beads are telling , *
Tis sweet to hear the hunter ' s horn , From glen to mountain wildly swelling . And
it is sweet , at mid - day houř , Beneath the forest oak reclining , To hear the ...
Seite 443
The traveller faint will list ' ning stare , And marvel whence thy sounds proceed ,
107 The fairy king in buxom weed , Will leave his dance to hear thy rede . But
chief of all , the love - lorn maid , in When dusky twilight clouds the sky , Eluding ...
The traveller faint will list ' ning stare , And marvel whence thy sounds proceed ,
107 The fairy king in buxom weed , Will leave his dance to hear thy rede . But
chief of all , the love - lorn maid , in When dusky twilight clouds the sky , Eluding ...
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Beauties of the Scottish Poets, Or Harp of Renfrewshire, a Collection of ... Scottish Poets,Renfrew County Keine Leseprobe verfügbar - 2016 |
The Harp of Renfrewshire: A Collection of Songs and Other Poetical Pieces ... Renfrew County Keine Leseprobe verfügbar - 2016 |
Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
appear beauty bonny bosom breast bright charms cheek cold dark dear death deep delight dream fair fate father fear feel flower frae give grave hand happy head hear heard heart heaven hills hope hour I'll John kind known lady land lassie leave light live look maid mair Mary meet mind morning mountain native nature ne'er never night o'er once peace piece pleasure poem poet poor present rest rise rose round scenes side sigh sing sleep smile song soon sorrow soul sound spirit sweet tear tell thee There's thing thou thought tree true Twas wander wave weary weel weep wild Willy wind written young youth
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 336 - Take, oh take those lips away, That so sweetly were forsworn; And those eyes, the break of day, Lights that do mislead the morn; But my kisses bring again, bring again, Seals of love, but seal'd in vain.
Seite 4 - By the struggling moonbeam's misty light, And the lantern dimly burning. No useless coffin enclosed his breast, Not in sheet nor in shroud we wound him; But he lay like a warrior taking his rest, With his martial cloak around him. Few and short were the prayers we said, And we spoke not a word of sorrow; But we steadfastly gazed on the face of the dead, And we bitterly thought of the morrow.
Seite 283 - Go, lovely Rose ! Tell her that wastes her time and me, That now she knows, When I resemble her to thee, How sweet and fair she seems to be. Tell her that's young, And shuns to have her graces spied, That had'st thou sprung In deserts where no men abide, Thou must have uncommended died. Small is the worth Of beauty from the light retired : Bid her come forth, Suffer herself to be desired, And not blush so to be admired. Then die ! that she The common fate of all things rare May read in thee, —...
Seite 138 - She is far from the land where her young hero sleeps, And lovers around her are sighing; But coldly she turns from their gaze and weeps, For her heart in his grave is lying.
Seite 414 - With coral clasps and amber studs: And if these pleasures may thee move, Come live with me and be my love.
Seite 384 - FAINTLY as tolls the evening chime, Our voices keep tune and our oars keep time. Soon as the woods on shore look dim, We'll sing at St. Ann's our parting hymn. Row, brothers, row, the stream runs fast, The Rapids are near and the daylight's past.
Seite 273 - THE YOUNG MAY MOON. THE young May moon is beaming, love, The glow-worm's lamp is gleaming, love, How sweet to rove Through Morna's grove,* When the drowsy world is dreaming, love ! Then awake ! — the heavens look bright, my dear, 'Tis never too late for delight, my dear, And the best of all ways To lengthen our days Is to steal a few hours from the night, my dear.
Seite 416 - The flowers do fade, and wanton fields To wayward Winter reckoning yields: A honey tongue, a heart of gall, Is fancy's spring, but sorrow's fall. Thy gowns, thy shoes, thy beds of roses, Thy cap, thy kirtle, and thy posies, Soon break, soon wither — soon forgotten...
Seite 3 - NOT a drum was heard, not a funeral note, As his corse to the rampart we hurried; Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot O'er the grave where our hero we buried.
Seite 5 - We thought, as we hollowed his narrow bed, And smoothed down his lonely pillow, That the foe and the stranger would tread o'er his head, And we far away on the billow ! Lightly they'll talk of the spirit that's gone, And o'er his cold ashes upbraid him ; But little hell reck if they let him sleep on In the grave where a Briton has laid him...
Bibliografische Informationen
| Titel | Beauties of the Scottish poets, or Harp of Renfrewshire, a collection of songs and other poetical pieces, with notes, and a short essay on the poets of Renfrewshire [by W. Motherwell. Re-issue of the harp of Renfrewshire, with cancel title-leaf]. |
| Autor/in | Renfrew county |
| Herausgeber | William Motherwell |
| Mitwirkende Personen | Scottish poets |
| Veröffentlicht | 1821 |
| Original von | Oxford University |
| Digitalisiert | 26. Sept. 2006 |
| Zitat exportieren | BiBTeX EndNote RefMan |