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Adelaide Anne Procter Allan Cunningham angels Art thou beauty beneath bird bless bless'd bliss bloom bosom breast breath bright brother brother's keeper brow Casa Wappy Charles Mackay Charles Swain cheek child cloud dark dear deed delight doth dreams earth Eliza Cook fair faith feel flowers fond Forgive Friendship gentle glow grace grave grief hand happy hath heaven holy hope hour infant James Ballantine John Anderson John Critchley life's light lips live look Love's mair mitherless bairn Mother's Love N. P. Willis ne'er never night o'er pity pray prayer Ring Robert Burns Robert Pollok round scorn seem'd shine sigh sister sleep smile soft song soothe sorrow soul spirit stars sweet tears tender thee there's nae luck thine eye things thou art thought thy brother's Thy neighbour to-day to-morrow Twas voice wild William Cowper wing words
Страница 114 - Let me not to the marriage of true minds Admit impediments. Love is not love Which alters when it alteration finds, Or bends with the remover to remove. O, no! it is an ever-fixed mark That looks on tempests and is never shaken; It is the star to every wandering bark, Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Страница 177 - She was a Phantom of delight When first she gleamed upon my sight; A lovely Apparition, sent To be a moment's ornament; Her eyes as stars of Twilight fair; Like Twilight's, too, her dusky hair: But all things else about her drawn From May-time and the cheerful A dancing Shape, an Image gay, To haunt, to startle, and waylay.
Страница 220 - BETWEEN the dark and the daylight, When the night is beginning to lower, Comes a pause in the day's occupations, That is known as the Children's Hour. I hear in the chamber above me The patter of little feet, The sound of a door that is opened, And voices soft and sweet.
Страница 89 - Lands intersected by a narrow frith Abhor each other. Mountains interposed Make enemies of nations, who had else Like kindred drops been mingled into one.
Страница 126 - Near yonder copse, where once the garden smiled, And still where many a garden flower grows wild ; There, where a few torn shrubs the place disclose, The village preacher's modest mansion rose. A man he was to all the country dear, And passing rich with forty pounds a year; Remote from towns he ran his godly race, Nor e'er had changed, nor wished to change, his place.
Страница 89 - OH for a lodge in some vast wilderness, Some boundless contiguity of shade, Where rumour of oppression and deceit, Of unsuccessful or successful war Might never reach me more...
Страница 169 - John Anderson my jo, John, When we were first acquent, Your locks were like the raven, Your bonnie brow was brent; But now your brow is beld, John, Your locks are like the snow; But blessings on your frosty pow, John Anderson, my jo. John Anderson my jo, John, We clamb the hill thegither; And mony a canty day, John, We've had wi...
Страница 178 - And now I see with eye serene, The very pulse of the machine; A being, breathing thoughtful breath, A traveller between life and death ; The reason firm, the temperate will, Endurance, foresight, strength and skill; A perfect woman, nobly planned, To warn, to comfort; and command. And yet a spirit, still and bright With something of an angel light.
Страница 127 - Wept o'er his wounds or tales of sorrow done, Shouldered his crutch, and showed how fields were won. Pleased with his guests, the good man learned to glow, And quite forgot their vices in their woe ; Careless their merits or their faults to scan, His pity gave ere charity began.