Poems on Various Subjects, Volumen63

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author, 1803 - 441 páginas

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Página 55 - And airy tongues that syllable men's names On sands and shores and desert wildernesses. These thoughts may startle well, but not astound The virtuous mind, that ever walks attended By a strong siding champion, Conscience.
Página 259 - That from beneath the seat of Jove doth spring, Begin, and somewhat loudly sweep the string. Hence with denial vain, and coy excuse, So may some gentle Muse With lucky words favour my destin'd Urn, And as he passes turn, And bid fair peace be to my sable shroud.
Página 405 - O WHERE, tell me where, is your Highland laddie gone? O where, tell me where, is your Highland laddie gone...
Página 29 - Now, my co-mates and brothers in exile, Hath not old custom made this life more sweet Than that of painted pomp? Are not these woods More free from peril than the envious court? Here feel we but the penalty of Adam, — The seasons...
Página 407 - A bonnet, with a lofty plume! the gallant badge of War; And a plaid across the manly breast that yet shall wear a Star! Suppose, ah'! suppose that some cruel, cruel, wound Should pierce your Highland Laddie; and all your hopes confound!
Página 276 - O fountain Arethuse, and thou honoured flood, Smooth-sliding Mincius, crowned with vocal reeds, That strain I heard was of a higher mood ! But now my oat proceeds, And listens to the Herald of the Sea That came in Neptune's plea.
Página 406 - O what, tell me what, does your Highland laddie wear ? O what, tell me what, does your Highland laddie wear ? " " A bonnet with a lofty plume, the gallant badge of war; And a plaid across the manly breast, that yet shall wear a star.
Página 40 - WHERE yonder ridgy mountains bound the scene, The narrow opening glens that intervene Still shelter, in some lowly nook obscure One poorer than the rest — where all are poor ; Some widowed matron, hopeless of relief, Who to her secret breast confines her grief; Dejected sighs the wintry night away, And lonely muses all the summer day : Her gallant sons, who, smit with honour's charms, Pursued the phantom Fame through war's alarms, Return no more; stretched on...
Página 234 - All school-days' friendship, childhood innocence ? We, Hermia, like two artificial gods, Have with our needles created both one flower, Both on one sampler, sitting on one cushion, Both warbling of one song, both in one key ; As if our hands, our sides, voices...
Página 407 - But I will hope to see him yet, in Scotland's bonny bounds; But I will hope to see him yet, in Scotland's bonny bounds. His native land of liberty shall nurse his glorious wounds, While wide, through all our Highland hills, his warlike name resounds.

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