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 Volume of His Poems, and Containing Several Pieces Hitherto Unpublished

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T. G. Stevenson, 1850 - English poetry - 192 pages
 

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Page 172 - Why, thou wert better in thy grave than to answer with thy uncovered body this extremity of the skies. 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 4 - 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 162 - Like leaves on trees the race of man is found, Now green in youth, now withering on the ground; Another race the following spring supplies; They fall successive, and successive rise: So generations in their course decay; So flourish these, when those are pass'd away. But if thou still persist to search my birth, Then hear a tale that fills the spacious earth. "A city stands on Argos...
Page 11 - 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 47 - 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 103 - 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 184 - 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.
Page 8 - 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 Pu'ing the birks on the braes of Yarrow.
Page xv - His grisly hand in icy chains Fair Tweda's silver flood constrains : Cast up thy eyes, how bleak and bare He wanders on the tops of Yare! Behold his footsteps dire are seen Confess'd on many a withering green.
Page 11 - 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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