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appear arms beauteous beauty bless blest blood bloom BOOK breast breath bright calm charms chief daring dear death decreed deed delight desire dire divine dreadful earth equal eyes fair faithful fame fate father fear fell field fierce fight flame flowers gentle gifts glory grace hand happy hear heart Heav'n hopes hour human inspire kind kings light live look lost maid mighty mild mind mortal Muse native Nature night o'er once pain peace plain pow'r praise pride race rage reign rest rich rising round sacred scene seen shade shine sighs sire smile soft song sorrow soul sounds spring stream sweet tears tender thee thine thou thought toil train triumph vain virtue voice weep wing woes wound Yarrow yield youth
Page 18 - And lay him on the braes of Yarrow. "Then build, then build, ye sisters, sisters sad, Ye sisters sad, his tomb with sorrow: And weep around, in waeful wise, His hapless fate on the braes of Yarrow.
Page 4 - To bear the scornful fair one's hate, Nor dare disclose his anguish ! Yet eager looks and dying sighs My secret soul discover, While rapture trembling through mine eyes Reveals how much I love her. The tender glance, the reddening cheek O'erspread with rising blushes, A thousand various ways they speak, A thousand various wishes.
Page 9 - Fly'st thou, displeased, the commerce of mankind? O ! teach our steps to find the secret cell, Where, with thy sire Content, thou lov'st to dwell. Or, say, dost thou a duteous handmaid wait Familiar at the chambers of the great ? Dost thou pursue the voice of them that call To noisy revel, and to midnight ball ? O'er the full banquet, when we feast our soul, Dost thou inspire the mirth, or mix the bowl ? Or, with the...
Page 10 - Eglintoun ! thy happy breast, Calm and serene enjoys the heavenly guest; From the tumultuous rule of passions freed, Pure in thy thought, and spotless in thy deed. In virtues rich, in goodness unconfin'd, Thou shin'st a fair example to thy kind...
Page 19 - Yarrow fields ! may never, never rain Nor dew thy tender blossoms cover, For there was basely slain my love, My love, as he had not been a lover.
Page 20 - But who the expected husband, husband is ? His hands, methinks, are bathed in slaughter. Ah me ! what ghastly spectre's yon, Comes, in his pale shroud, bleeding after ? Pale as he is, here lay him, lay him down...
Page 55 - How oft, beneath Its martial influence, have Scotia's sons Through every age with dauntless valour fought On every hostile ground ! while o'er their breast, Companion to the silver star, bless'd type Of fame unsullied and superior deed, Distinguish'd ornament!
Page 42 - Were I lord Of all the wealth those breasts afford, I'd be a miser too, nor give An alms to keep a god alive.