Ballads and Songs

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Bell and Daldy, 1857 - 342 Seiten
 

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Seite 294 - To thee belongs the rural reign; Thy cities shall with commerce shine; All thine shall be the subject main, And every shore it circles, thine. Rule...
Seite 293 - When Britain first, at Heaven's command, Arose from out the azure main ; This was the charter of the land, And guardian angels sung this strain : " Rule, Britannia, rule the waves; Britons never will be slaves!
Seite 114 - And then it started, like a guilty thing Upon a fearful summons. I have heard, The cock, that is the trumpet to the morn, Doth with his lofty and shrill-sounding throat Awake the god of day ; and at his warning, Whether in sea or fire, in earth or air, Th' extravagant and erring spirit hies To his confine ; and of the truth herein This present object made probation.
Seite 294 - Still more majestic shalt thou rise, More dreadful from each foreign stroke; As the loud blast that tears the skies Serves but to root thy native oak. Thee haughty tyrants ne'er shall tame; All their attempts to bend thee down Will but arouse thy generous flame, But work their woe, and thy renown.
Seite 282 - Invite the tuneful birds to sing; And while they warble from each spray, Love melts the universal Lay ! Let us, AMANDA ! timely wise, Like them, improve the hour that flies ; And, in soft raptures, waste the day Among the Birks of Endermay!
Seite 161 - The spinsters and the knitters in the sun, And the free maids that weave their thread with bones, Do use to chant it ; it is silly sooth, And dallies with the innocence of love, Like the old age.
Seite 82 - So shall the fairest face appear, When youth and years are flown: Such is the robe that kings must wear, When death has reft their crown.
Seite 113 - Thou art my father:" to the worm, "Thou art my mother, and my sister.
Seite 244 - Twas friendship, heighten'd by the mutual wish, The enchanting hope, and sympathetic glow, Beam'd from the mutual eye. Devoting all To love, each was to each a dearer self; Supremely happy in the awaken'd power Of giving joy.
Seite 82 - Margaret's body lay; And stretch'd him on the green-grass turf That wrapt her breathless clay. And thrice he call'd on Margaret's name, And thrice he wept full sore ; Then laid his cheek to her cold grave, And word spake never more ! THE BIRKS OF INVERMAY.

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