The union to Scott

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Macmillan and Company, 1893 - English literature
 

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Page 164 - What is title? What is treasure? What is reputation's care ? If we lead a life of pleasure 'Tis no matter how or where...
Page 75 - A pleasing land of drowsy -head it was, Of dreams that wave before the half-shut eye ; And of gay castles in the clouds that pass, For ever flushing round a summer sky...
Page 69 - And, as on earth this grateful change revolves, With transport touches all the springs of life. Nature, attend! join every living soul, Beneath the spacious temple of the sky, In adoration join; and ardent raise One general song! To Him, ye vocal gales, Breathe soft, whose spirit in your freshness breathes. Oh, talk of Him in solitary glooms Where o'er the rock the scarcely waving pine Fills the brown shade with a religious awe; And ye, whose bolder note is heard afar, Who shake the astonished world,...
Page 132 - But who the melodies of morn can tell ? — The wild brook babbling down the mountain side ; The lowing herd ; the sheepfold's simple bell ; The pipe of early shepherd dim descried In the lone valley ; echoing far and wide, The clamorous horn along the cliffs above ; The hollow murmur of the ocean-tide ; The hum of bees ; the linnet's lay of love ; And the full choir that wakes the universal grove.
Page 206 - A weary lot is thine, fair maid, A weary lot is thine ! To pull the thorn thy brow to braid, And press the rue for wine ! A lightsome eye, a soldier's mien, A feather of the blue, A doublet of the Lincoln green, — No more of me you knew, My love ! No more of me yon knew.
Page 137 - I was thinking of indenting myself, for want of money to procure my passage. As soon as I was master of nine guineas, the price of wafting me to the torrid zone, I took a steerage passage in the first ship that was to sail from the Clyde; for " Hungry ruin had me in the wind.
Page 184 - BARD'S EPITAPH Is there a whim-inspired fool, Owre fast for thought, owre hot for rule, Owre blate to seek, owre proud to snool? Let him draw near; And owre this grassy heap sing dool, And drap a tear.
Page 177 - WERT thou in the cauld blast, On yonder lea, on yonder lea, My plaidie to the angry airt, I'd shelter thee, I'd shelter thee. Or did misfortune's bitter storms Around thee blaw, around thee blaw, Thy bield should be my bosom, To share it a', to share it a'.
Page 122 - 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!
Page 138 - The gloomy night is gathering fast,* when a letter from Dr. Blacklock to a friend of mine overthrew all my schemes, by opening new prospects to my poetic ambition. The doctor belonged to a set of critics, for whose applause I had not dared to hope. His opinion that I would meet with encouragement in Edinburgh for a second edition, fired me so much, that away I posted for that city, without a single acquaintance, or a single letter of introduction.

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