Poems of the Scottish Minor Poets: From the Age of Ramsay to David Gray

Sir George Brisbane Douglas (bart.)
W. Scott, 1891 - 327 ページ

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160 ページ - But blacker fa- awaits the heart Where first fond luve grows cule. 0 dear, dear Jeanie Morrison, The thochts o' bygane years Still fling their shadows ower my path, And blind my een wi' tears : They blind my een wi
xxxvi ページ - Thy shades, thy silence, now be mine, Thy charms my only theme ; My haunt the hollow cliff, whose pine Waves o'er the gloomy stream, Whence! the scared owl on pinions grey Breaks from the rustling boughs, And down the lone vale sails away To more profound repose.
60 ページ - squire me to his father's towers ; He promised me a wedding-ring, — The wedding-day was...
61 ページ - The greenwood path to meet her brother : They sought him east, they sought him west, They sought him all the forest thorough, They only saw the cloud of night, They only heard the roar of Yarrow. No longer from thy window look— Thou hast no son, thou tender mother ! No longer walk, thou lovely maid — Alas ! thou hast no more a brother. No longer seek him east or west...
57 ページ - Now, Spring returns : but not to me returns The vernal joy my better years have known ; Dim in my breast life's dying taper burns, And all the joys of life with health are flown.
143 ページ - A CLOUD lay cradled near the setting sun ; A gleam of crimson tinged its braided snow ; Long had I watched the glory moving on, O'er the still radiance of the lake below...
43 ページ - Is this a time to think o' wark ? Ye jades, lay by your wheel ; Is this the time to spin a thread, When Colin's at the door ? Reach down my cloak, I'll to the quay, And see him come ashore. For there's nae luck about the house, There's nae luck at a' ; There's little pleasure in the house When our gudeman's awa'.
60 ページ - The schoolboy, wandering through the wood To pull the primrose gay, Starts, the new voice of spring to hear, And imitates thy lay. What time the pea puts on the bloom, Thou fliest thy vocal vale, An annual guest in other lands, Another spring to hail. Sweet bird ! thy bower is ever green, Thy sky is ever clear ; Thou hast no sorrow in thy song, No winter in thy year...
82 ページ - m wearin' awa', John, Like snaw-wreaths in thaw, John, I 'm wearin' awa' To the land o' the leal There's nae sorrow there, John, There's neither cauld nor care, John, The day is aye fair In the land o' the leal. Our bonnie bairn 's there, John, She was baith gude and fair, John; And oh ! we grudged her sair To the land o
40 ページ - I've heard them lilting, at our ewe-milking Lasses a' lilting before dawn of day : But now they are moaning, on ilka green loaning, The Flowers of the forest are a