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 lxviii
My Sunday ' s shoon they maun gae on , My bose of pearl blue ; Its a ' to please
my ain gudeman , For he ' s baitn leal and true . For there ' s nae , & c . Rise up
and mak a clean fire - side , Put on the muckle pot , Gie little Kate her cotton gown
...
My Sunday ' s shoon they maun gae on , My bose of pearl blue ; Its a ' to please
my ain gudeman , For he ' s baitn leal and true . For there ' s nae , & c . Rise up
and mak a clean fire - side , Put on the muckle pot , Gie little Kate her cotton gown
...
Seite 103
Seasons may roll , But the true soul Burns the same , where ' er it goes . Let fate
frown on , so we love and part not ; ' Tis life where thou art , ' tis death where thou
art not ! Then come o ' er the sea , Maiden ! with me , Come wherever the wild ...
Seasons may roll , But the true soul Burns the same , where ' er it goes . Let fate
frown on , so we love and part not ; ' Tis life where thou art , ' tis death where thou
art not ! Then come o ' er the sea , Maiden ! with me , Come wherever the wild ...
Seite 118
Where is my Owen , where is my true love ! O saw ye the shepherd that ' s
dearest to me ? Where art thou wandering ? come , haste to my view , love O art
thou not eager thy Mary to see ? Long , long does he tarry , ah ! surely some new
love ...
Where is my Owen , where is my true love ! O saw ye the shepherd that ' s
dearest to me ? Where art thou wandering ? come , haste to my view , love O art
thou not eager thy Mary to see ? Long , long does he tarry , ah ! surely some new
love ...
Seite 233
See ! the whyte moone sheenes onne hie ; Whyterre ys mie true loves shroude ;
Whyterre yanne the mornynge skie ; Whyterre yanne the evenynge cloude ; Mie
love ys dedde , Gon to hys death - bedde , Al under the wyllowe tree .
See ! the whyte moone sheenes onne hie ; Whyterre ys mie true loves shroude ;
Whyterre yanne the mornynge skie ; Whyterre yanne the evenynge cloude ; Mie
love ys dedde , Gon to hys death - bedde , Al under the wyllowe tree .
Seite 251
Roland like christian true would live , Was seen at mass , and in procession ; And
freely to the poor would give , Nor did he always shun confession . But Bishop
Turpin had decreed His council in such weighty matter , That ' twas a good and ...
Roland like christian true would live , Was seen at mass , and in procession ; And
freely to the poor would give , Nor did he always shun confession . But Bishop
Turpin had decreed His council in such weighty matter , That ' twas a good and ...
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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 |