Poems by Robert Nicoll

G. H. Whitney, 1853 - 304 páginas

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Página 181 - Praise to the good, the pure, the great, Who made us what we are ! Who lit the flame which yet shall glow With radiance brighter far : Glory to them in coming time, And through eternity, Who burst the captive's galling chain, And bade the world go free ! CXXI.
Página 71 - O'er thy broad, ample page How many dim and aged eyes have pored ! How many hearts o'er thee In silence deep and holy have adored : How many mothers, by their infants...
Página 159 - I ken na why ane wi' anither should fight, When to 'gree would make a' body cosie an' right, When man meets wi' man, 'tis the best way ava, To say, " Gi'e me your hand — we are brethren a'. " My coat is a coarse ane, an' yours may be fine, And I maun drink water, while you may drink wine; But we baith ha'ea leal heart, unspotted to shaw; Sae gi'e me your hand— we are brethren a...
Página 303 - Death comes to take me where I long to be ; One pang, and bright blooms the immortal flower ; Death comes to lead me from mortality, To lands which know not one unhappy hour; I have a hope, a faith — from sorrow here I'm led by death away — why should I start and fear ? If I have loved the forest and the field, Can I not love them deeper, better there ? If all that Power hath made, to me doth yield Something of good and beauty — something fair — Freed from the grossness of mortality, May...
Página 70 - I could worship thee! Thou art a gift a God of love might give; For Love and Hope and Joy In thy Almighty-written pages live ! — The Slave who reads shall never crouch again ; For, mind-inspired by thee, he bursts his feeble chain ! "God!
Página 36 - R.'sf hangs like a millstone about my neck. If I had it paid I would never borrow again from mortal man. But do not mistake me, mother ; I am not one of those men who faint and falter in the great battle of life. God has given me too strong a heart for that. I look upon earth as a place where every man is set to struggle, and to work, that he may be made humble and pure-hearted, and fit for that better land for which earth is a preparation — to which earth is the gate.
Página 196 - When weariness hath come upon the spirit — (Those hours of darkness which we all inherit) — Bursts there not through a glint of warm sunshine, A winged thought which bids us not repine? In joy and gladness, In mirth and sadness, Come signs and tokens; Life's angel brings, Upon its wings, Those bright communings The soul doth keep — Those thoughts of heaven So pure and deep!
Página 205 - neath the hazels gather — Or where by hoary rocks you make your bields, And sweetly flourish on through summer weather — I love ye all ! Beautiful flowers ! to me ye fresher seem From the Almighty hand that...
Página 70 - Yea all that heart can ask of Good, and Pure, and Fair ! And Father, Thou hast spread Before Men's eyes this Charter of the Free, That ALL Thy Book might read, And Justice love, and Truth and Liberty. The Gift was unto...
Página 249 - THE PRIMROSE. THE milk-white blossoms of the thorn Are waving o'er the pool, Moved by the wind that breathes along So sweetly and so cool. The hawthorn clusters bloom above, The primrose hides below, And on the lonely passer-by A modest glance doth throw ! The humble primrose' bonnie face I meet it everywhere ; Where other flowers disdain to bloom, It comes and nestles there.

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