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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...
Страница 157 - 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...
Страница 157 - 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 158 - ... 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 200 - An' now, auld Cloots, I ken ye're thinkin, A certain Bardie's rantin, drinkin, Some luckless hour will send him linkin, To your black pit ; But, faith ! he'll turn a corner jinkin, An' cheat you yet. But, fare you weel, auld Nickie-ben ! O wad ye tak a thought an' men' ! Ye aiblins might — I dinna ken — Still hae a stake — I'm wae to think upo' yon den, Ev'n for your sake ! THE DEATH AND DYING WORDS OF POOR MAILIE,
Страница 12 - But bring a Scotsman frae his hill, Clap in his cheek a Highland gill, Say, such is royal George's will, An' there's the foe, He has nae thought but how to kill Twa at a blow.
Страница 280 - Where the howlet mourns in her ivy bower, And tells the midnight moon her care. The winds were laid, the air was still, The stars they shot alang the sky ; The fox was howling on the hill, And the distant echoing glens reply.
Страница 88 - And what meat's i' this house, ladye, That ye're na wellcum tee ? '" — " O ye'se gae kill your berry-brown steed, And serve him up to me." O when he kill'd his berry-brown steed, Wow gin his heart was sair ! She ate him a' up, skin and bane, Left naething but hide and hair. " Mair meat, mair meat, ye King Henrie ! Mair meat ye gie to me ? " —
Страница 242 - 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.