Poetical works ... chronologically arranged, Volume 3

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Page 60 - O pale, pale now, those rosy lips, I aft hae kiss'd sae fondly ! And closed for aye the sparkling glance, That dwelt on me sae kindly ; And mouldering now in silent dust, That heart that lo'ed me dearly ! But still within my bosom's core, Shall live my Highland Mary.* TO MARY IN HEAVEN.
Page 17 - But to return to our own institute; besides these constant exercises at home, there is another opportunity of gaining experience to be won from pleasure itself abroad; in those vernal seasons of the year when the air is calm and pleasant, it were an injury and sullenness against nature, not to go out and see her riches, and partake in her rejoicing with heaven and earth.
Page 132 - It was a' for our rightfu' King We e'er saw Irish land, My dear — We e'er saw Irish land. Now a' is done that men can do, And a...
Page 101 - Wha will be a traitor knave? Wha can fill a coward's grave? Wha sae base as be a slave? Let him turn and flee ! Wha' for Scotland's King and Law, Freedom's sword will strongly draw.
Page 118 - Where the howlet mourns in her ivy bower, And tells the midnight moon her care. The winds were laid, the air was still, The stars they shot alang the sky ; The fox was howling on the hill, And the distant echoing glens reply.
Page 102 - Let him on wi' me ! By Oppression's woes and pains ! By your Sons in servile chains ! We will drain our dearest veins, But they shall be free ! Lay the proud Usurpers low ! Tyrants fall in every foe ! LIBERTY'S in every blow...
Page 119 - As fair art thou, my bonnie lass, So deep in luve am I ; And I will luve thee still, my dear, Till a" the seas gang dry. Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear, And the rocks melt wi' the sun ; And I will luve thee still, my dear, While the sands o
Page 76 - She has open'd the door, she has open'd it wide; She sees his pale corse on the plain, Oh ! My true love, she cried, and sank down by his side, Never to rise again, Oh ! MEG O' THE MILL. AIR — ' O, BONIE LASS, WILL YOU LIE IN A BARRACK.
Page 128 - A waefu' day it was to me ; For there I lost my father dear, My father dear and brethren three. Their winding-sheet the bluidy clay, Their graves are growing green to see ; And by them lies the dearest lad That ever blest a woman's e'e ! Now wae to thee thou cruel lord, A bluidy man I trow thou be ; For mony a heart thou hast made sair, That ne'er did wrang to thine or thee ! A RED, RED ROSE TUNE—
Page 63 - DUNCAN GRAY cam here to woo, Ha, ha, the wooing o't, On blythe Yule night when we were fou, Ha, ha, the wooing o't. Maggie coost her head fu' high, Look'd asklent and unco skeigh, Gart poor Duncan stand abeigh; Ha, ha, the wooing o't. Duncan fleech'd, and Duncan pray'd; Ha, ha, the wooing o't; Meg was deaf as Ailsa Craig, Ha, ha, the wooing o't; Duncan sigh'd baith out and in, Grat his een baith bleer't and blin', Spak o' lowpin' o'er a linn ; Ha, ha, the wooing o't.

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