The Union: Or Select Scots and English Poems.. |
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Page 14
... fprings , And blooms luxuriant with a race of kings . Th'eternal plant wide fpreads its arms around , And with the mighty branch the mystic top is crown'd . And lo ! the glories of th ' illuftrious line At their firft dawn with ripen'd ...
... fprings , And blooms luxuriant with a race of kings . Th'eternal plant wide fpreads its arms around , And with the mighty branch the mystic top is crown'd . And lo ! the glories of th ' illuftrious line At their firft dawn with ripen'd ...
Page 16
... fprings in ev'ry vein : Yet ever from the clearest fource have ran Some grofs allays , fome tincture of the man . But who is he ? ---- deep - mufing ---- in his mind , He seems to weigh , in reason's scales , mankind ; Fix'd ...
... fprings in ev'ry vein : Yet ever from the clearest fource have ran Some grofs allays , fome tincture of the man . But who is he ? ---- deep - mufing ---- in his mind , He seems to weigh , in reason's scales , mankind ; Fix'd ...
Page 39
... fprings , Thy springs , and dying gales , O Nymph referv'd , while now the bright - hair'd fun Sits in yon western tent , whose cloudy skirts , With brede ethereal wove , O'erhang his wavy bed : Nor air is hufh'd , fave where the weak ...
... fprings , Thy springs , and dying gales , O Nymph referv'd , while now the bright - hair'd fun Sits in yon western tent , whose cloudy skirts , With brede ethereal wove , O'erhang his wavy bed : Nor air is hufh'd , fave where the weak ...
Page 40
... Thy dewy fingers draw The gradual dusky veil . While fpring fhall pour his fhow'rs , as oft he wont , And bathe thy breathing treffes , meekeft Eve ! While Summer loves to sport , Beneath thy ling'ring light 40 ODE TO EVENING .
... Thy dewy fingers draw The gradual dusky veil . While fpring fhall pour his fhow'rs , as oft he wont , And bathe thy breathing treffes , meekeft Eve ! While Summer loves to sport , Beneath thy ling'ring light 40 ODE TO EVENING .
Page
... fprings , And breathe whate'er thy ancient airs infuse , To polish Albion's warlike ear This long - loft melody to hear , Thy sweetest arts imploy ; As when the winds from shore to shore , Thro ' Greece thy lyre's perfuafive language ...
... fprings , And breathe whate'er thy ancient airs infuse , To polish Albion's warlike ear This long - loft melody to hear , Thy sweetest arts imploy ; As when the winds from shore to shore , Thro ' Greece thy lyre's perfuafive language ...
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Common terms and phrases
æther ATHELWOLD beauty beneath beſt blaſts bow'rs breaſt breath Britiſh brow cauſe crown'd ELFRIDA erft ev'ry facred fage fair fame fang fcorn fhade fhall fhine ficht fide filent filver fing firft firſt fleep flow'rs fmiles foft folemn fome fong fons footh forrow foul fprings frae Freedom calls freſh ftill ftrong fuch fwain fweet fwells fword glory Goddeſs green groves Hail hand HARDYKNUTE hear heart heav'n higheſt ISIS king KING OF SCOTS laſt lefs lift'ning lov'd lyre maid Majeſtic moſt Mufe Muſe numbers nymph o'er peace penfive pleaſure poems pow'r praiſe Queen Quhen raiſe reft reign rife ſcene Scotland ſeems ſeen ſhade ſhall ſhe ſhine ſhore ſmile ſpeak ſpread ſtand ſtate ſteps ſtrain ſtream ſweet thee theſe thine thoſe thou thro throne tow'rs vale vermil virtue whofe whoſe winds zour
Popular passages
Page 59 - The breezy call of incense-breathing morn, The swallow twittering from the straw-built shed, The cock's shrill clarion, or the echoing horn, No more shall rouse them from their lowly bed. For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn, Or busy housewife ply her evening care; No children run to lisp their sire's return, Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share.
Page 59 - THE CURFEW tolls the knell of parting day, The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea, The plowman homeward plods his weary way, And leaves the world to darkness and to me.
Page 62 - There at the foot of yonder nodding beech That wreathes its old fantastic roots so high, His listless length at noontide would he stretch, And pore upon the brook that babbles by.
Page 63 - One morn I missed him on the customed hill, Along the heath and near his favourite tree; Another came; nor yet beside the rill, Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood was he; 'The next with dirges due in sad array Slow through the church-way path we saw him borne. Approach and read (for thou can'st read) the lay, Graved on the stone beneath yon aged thorn.
Page 59 - Each in his narrow cell for ever laid, The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep. The breezy call of incense-breathing morn, , The swallow twittering from the straw-built shed, The cock's shrill clarion, or the echoing horn, No more shall rouse them from their lowly bed.
Page 60 - The boast of heraldry, the pomp of pow'r, And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave, Awaits alike th
Page 63 - Here rests his head upon the lap of earth A youth, to fortune and to fame unknown: Fair science frown'd not on his humble birth, And melancholy mark'd him for her own. Large was his bounty, and his soul sincere...
Page 56 - Lie slaughter'd on their native ground ; Thy hospitable roofs no more Invite the stranger to the door; In smoky ruins sunk they lie. The monuments of cruelty. The wretched owner sees afar His all become the prey of war ; Bethinks him of his babes and wife, Then smites his breast, and curses life.
Page 35 - While Spring shall pour his Show'rs, as oft he wont, And bathe thy breathing Tresses, meekest Eve! While Summer loves to sport, Beneath thy ling'ring light: While sallow Autumn fills thy Lap with Leaves, Or Winter yelling thro' the troublous Air, Affrights thy shrinking Train, And rudely rends thy Robes.
Page 25 - O'er all my artless songs preside, My footsteps to thy temple guide, To offer at thy turf-built shrine, In golden cups no costly wine, No murder'd fading of the flock, But flowers and honey from the rock. O nymph with...