Poems on Various Subjects, Volume 63 |
From inside the book
Results 1-5 of 58
Page 5
... to Laggan ... .. .161 Notes on Ditto ... .214 ... 219 To the Right Honourable Henry Dundas . On the Death of Sir Ralph Abercromby . A familiar Epistle to a Friend .... .221 .236 An Epistle to a Friend ... Notes on Ditto ... 5.
... to Laggan ... .. .161 Notes on Ditto ... .214 ... 219 To the Right Honourable Henry Dundas . On the Death of Sir Ralph Abercromby . A familiar Epistle to a Friend .... .221 .236 An Epistle to a Friend ... Notes on Ditto ... 5.
Page 6
... Death of Burns . • .P . 247 .253 .256 .261 To Mrs Dunlop of Dunlop , on reading Burns's Letters ... Moome ... The Nymph of the Fountain to Charlotte ... Answer to a Poetical Epistle from an intimate Friend .... To His Royal Highness the ...
... Death of Burns . • .P . 247 .253 .256 .261 To Mrs Dunlop of Dunlop , on reading Burns's Letters ... Moome ... The Nymph of the Fountain to Charlotte ... Answer to a Poetical Epistle from an intimate Friend .... To His Royal Highness the ...
Page 50
... death : When round the lonely hamlet's green domain , The grass in fresh luxuriance springs again ; When flowery herbage richly clothes the mead , And corn shot up , supplies the past'ral reed ; Then from the Summer - sheals their ...
... death : When round the lonely hamlet's green domain , The grass in fresh luxuriance springs again ; When flowery herbage richly clothes the mead , And corn shot up , supplies the past'ral reed ; Then from the Summer - sheals their ...
Page 58
... death . How awful now appears Night's silent reign ! Where lofty mountains bound the solemn scene . While Nature , wrapt in chilly bright disguise , And sunk in deep repose unconscious lies ; * And through the pure cerulean vault above ...
... death . How awful now appears Night's silent reign ! Where lofty mountains bound the solemn scene . While Nature , wrapt in chilly bright disguise , And sunk in deep repose unconscious lies ; * And through the pure cerulean vault above ...
Page 60
... death . Yet when the wearied storm has spent its wrath , Patient he still explores th ' adjacent Strath : By the pale moon he tracks the famish'd hare , Who seeks among the cots her scanty fare : At length , a distant light his steps ...
... death . Yet when the wearied storm has spent its wrath , Patient he still explores th ' adjacent Strath : By the pale moon he tracks the famish'd hare , Who seeks among the cots her scanty fare : At length , a distant light his steps ...
Contents
17 | |
31 | |
47 | |
57 | |
79 | |
111 | |
139 | |
143 | |
278 | |
286 | |
294 | |
298 | |
303 | |
309 | |
312 | |
320 | |
331 | |
334 | |
337 | |
339 | |
344 | |
349 | |
371 | |
393 | |
403 | |
410 | |
Other editions - View all
Common terms and phrases
artless bard beams beauty blast blest bloom bosom breast breath bright brow caves charms cheer Chief CLAN cries crown'd dark dear death deck deck'd disarming act drest eyes fair faithful fancy FARQUHAR fatal fate FINGALIANS FLORA FLORA MACDONALD foes Fort Augustus Gaelic Genius gentle Glendoe Glenmoriston gloom glow grace Grampian mountains grove haunts heart Highland Laddie Highlanders humble isle kind KINGSBURGH lady light Loch Laggan lofty lonely lov'd lyre maid mind MOOME mountains mournful Muse native Nature's nymph o'er OSSIAN peace pensive plain pleas'd pleasure poem pow'r PRINCE race RALPH ABERCROMBY rocks round sacred scene shades shine shore skies smile soft song soothe sorrow soul South Uist spread storm strain strath stream swains sweet tears tender thee thou thro toils tow'rs trace truth vale virtues wandering weary wild wind wont youth
Popular passages
Page 31 - Now, my co-mates and brothers in exile, Hath not old custom made this life more sweet Than that of painted pomp? Are not these woods More free from peril than the envious court? Here feel we but the penalty of Adam, — The seasons...
Page 57 - What might this be? A thousand fantasies Begin to throng into my memory, Of calling shapes and beckoning shadows dire, And airy tongues that syllable men's names On sands and shores and desert wildernesses.
Page 57 - And airy tongues that syllable men's names On sands and shores and desert wildernesses. These thoughts may startle well, but not astound The virtuous mind, that ever walks attended By a strong siding champion, Conscience.
Page 43 - still small voice" of sacred sympathy, In vain the mourner's sorrows would beguile, Or steal from weary woe one languid smile ; Yet what they can they do, — the scanty store, So often...
Page 257 - The poor inhabitant below Was quick to learn and wise to know, And keenly felt the friendly glow, And softer flame ; But thoughtless follies laid him low, And stain'd his name ! Reader, attend ! whether thy soul Soars fancy's flights beyond the pole, Or darkling grubs this earthly hole, In low pursuit ; Know, prudent, cautious, self-control Is wisdom's root.
Page 409 - But I will hope to see him yet, in Scotland's bonny bounds; But I will hope to see him yet, in Scotland's bonny bounds. His native land of liberty shall nurse his glorious wounds, While wide, through all our Highland hills, his warlike name resounds.
Page 43 - No time can e'er her banished joys restore, For ah ! a heart once broken heals no more. The dewy beams that gleam from pity's eye, The
Page 309 - How blest those olive plants that grow Beneath the altar's sacred shade, Where streams of fresh instruction flow, And Comfort's humble board is spread. 'Twas thus the swallow rear'd her young, Secure within the house of God, Of whom the royal prophet sung, When banish'd from that blest abode.
Page 17 - The sprightly lark's shrill matin wakes the morn. Grief's sharpest thorn hard pressing on my breast, 1 strive, with wakeful melody, to cheer The sullen gloom, sweet Philomel ! like thee, And call the stars to listen : every star Is deaf to mine, enamour'd of thy lay.
Page 409 - The pipe would play a cheering march, the banners round him fly ; The spirit of a Highland chief would lighten in his eye. The pipe would play a cheering march, the banners round him fly; And for his king and country dear with pleasure he would die...