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Страница 159 - The fountains mingle with the river And the rivers with the Ocean, The winds of Heaven mix for ever With a sweet emotion; Nothing in the world is single; All things by a law divine In one spirit meet and mingle. Why not I with thine?
Страница 230 - O that I were where Helen lies ! Night and day on me she cries ; Out of my bed she bids me rise, Says,
Страница 3 - It's no in makin muckle mair ; It's no in books ; it's no in lear, To make us truly blest ; If happiness hae not her seat And centre in the breast, We may be wise, or rich, or great, But never can be blest : Nae treasures, nor pleasures, Could make us happy lang ; The heart ay's the part ay That makes us right or wrang.
Страница 159 - Love's Philosophy The fountains mingle with the river And the rivers with the Ocean, The winds of Heaven mix for ever With a sweet emotion; Nothing in the world is single; All things by a law divine In one another's being mingle. Why not I with thine?— See the mountains kiss high Heaven And the waves clasp one another...
Страница 160 - ... Ocean, The winds of Heaven mix for ever With a sweet emotion; Nothing in the world is single; All things by a law divine In one another's being mingle. Why not I with thine?-— See the mountains kiss high Heaven And the waves clasp one another; No sister flower would be forgiven If it disdained its brother; And the sunlight clasps the earth And the moonbeams kiss the sea: What are all these kissings worth If thou kiss not me?
Страница 244 - Tis distance lends enchantment to the view, And robes the mountain in its azure hue. Thus, with delight, we linger to survey The promised joys of life's unmeasured way; Thus, from afar, each dim-discovered scene More pleasing seems than all the past hath been ; And every form that Fancy can repair From dark oblivion glows divinely there.
Страница 77 - Kilmeny gaed up the glen ; But it wasna to meet Duneira's men, Nor the rosy monk of the isle to see, For Kilmeny was pure as pure could be. It was only to hear the Yorlin sing, And pu...
Страница 295 - Her seymar was the lily flower, And her cheek the moss-rose in the shower ; And her voice like the distant melodye, That floats along the twilight sea.
Страница 232 - THE moon was a-waning, The tempest was over ; Fair was the maiden, And fond was the lover ; But the snow was so deep, That his heart it grew weary, And he sunk down to sleep, In the moorland so dreary. Soft was the bed She had made for her lover, White were the sheets And...