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appear arms beauty became better bless bonny born Braes breath called charms dead dear death delight died divine eyes face fair fame father fear feel fire flowers genius give green grow hand head hear heart heaven hills hope hour Jenny John kind king land leave light lines live look Lord mind mother Muse nature ne'er never night o'er once pain pass peace poem poet poetry poor Pope praise published rest rise rose round seen sense Shilling side sing smile song soon soul spirit spring sweet Swift tears tell thee thing thou thought true turn Twas verse virtue voice weep wife wind write wrote Yarrow young youth
Página 146 - Sweet bird ! thy bower is ever green, Thy sky is ever clear ; Thou hast no sorrow in thy song, No winter in thy year...
Página 203 - Not one immoral, one corrupted thought, One line, which dying he could wish to blot.
Página 145 - Weep ye not for the dead, neither bemoan him : but weep sore for him that goeth away : for he shall return no more, nor see his native country.
Página 120 - And babes, sweet-smiling babes, our bed. How should I love the pretty creatures, While round my knees they fondly clung! To see them look their mother's features, To hear them lisp their mother's tongue! And when with envy time transported Shall think to rob us of our joys, You'll in your girls again be courted, And I'll go wooing in my boys.
Página 300 - I have seen the walls of Balclutha, but they were desolate. The fire had resounded in the halls : and the voice of the people is heard no more. The stream of Clutha was removed from its place by the fall of the walls. The thistle shook, there, its lonely head : the moss whistled to the wind. The fox looked out from the windows, the rank grass of the wall waved round his head. Desolate is the dwelling of Moina, silence is in the house of her fathers.
Página 307 - E'en from the grave thou shalt have power to charm. Bid them be chaste, be innocent, like thee; Bid them in duty's sphere as meekly move; And if so fair, from vanity as free, As firm in friendship, and as fond in love, — Tell them...
Página 129 - My master carries me to church, And often am I blamed Because I leave him in the lurch As soon as text is named ; I leave the church in sermon-time And slink away to Sally ; She is the darling of my heart, And she lives in our alley.
Página 32 - To me thy aid, thou guardian genius, lend ! When rage misguides me, or when fear alarms, When pain distresses, or when pleasure charms, In silent whisperings purer thoughts impart, And .turn from ill a frail and feeble heart ; Lead through the paths thy virtue trod before, Till bliss shall join, nor death can part us more.
Página 68 - I believe them true: they argue no corrupted mind in him; the fault is in mankind. This maxim more than all the rest is thought too base for human breast: " In all distresses of our friends, we first consult our private ends; while nature, kindly bent to ease us, points out some circumstance to please us.