The Poetical Works: Of Robert Fergusson, with the Life of the Author. By David Irving. Embellished with Three Elegant Engravings. Chapman and Lang's EditionChapman and Lang, 1800 - 223 oldal |
Részletek a könyvből
1 - 5 találat összesen 43 találatból.
14. oldal
... night the misfortune to fall from a stair- ease , and receive a violent contusion on the head . When carried home , he could give no account of the accident , and seemed altogether insensible of his own situation . His brain was ...
... night the misfortune to fall from a stair- ease , and receive a violent contusion on the head . When carried home , he could give no account of the accident , and seemed altogether insensible of his own situation . His brain was ...
24. oldal
... Night , exhibit the general characteristics of the modern pas- toral ; the numbers are sufficiently smooth , but the sentiments trite and common . The reader meets with nothing that captivates his fancy , or interests his feelings ...
... Night , exhibit the general characteristics of the modern pas- toral ; the numbers are sufficiently smooth , but the sentiments trite and common . The reader meets with nothing that captivates his fancy , or interests his feelings ...
25. oldal
... night in safety . Few pas- sions agitate his breast : he is no stranger to love ; but his method of gaining the affections of his mistress , is such as every other shepherd adopts . The objects of nature with which he is conversant ...
... night in safety . Few pas- sions agitate his breast : he is no stranger to love ; but his method of gaining the affections of his mistress , is such as every other shepherd adopts . The objects of nature with which he is conversant ...
27. oldal
... Night - piece of his , which likewise seems a tolerably happy effort.e 77 1 . Now murky fhades surround the pole : Darkness lords without controul ; To the notes of buzzing owl , Lions roari and tygers howl , Fright'ning from their ...
... Night - piece of his , which likewise seems a tolerably happy effort.e 77 1 . Now murky fhades surround the pole : Darkness lords without controul ; To the notes of buzzing owl , Lions roari and tygers howl , Fright'ning from their ...
. oldal
... Night , a Pastoral The Complaint , a Pastoral ou 14.3.2018 I The Decay of Friendship , a Pastoral Elegy- Against repining at Fortune Conscience , an Elegy - Damon to his Friends , a Ballad Retirement Ode to Hope The Rivers of Scotland ...
... Night , a Pastoral The Complaint , a Pastoral ou 14.3.2018 I The Decay of Friendship , a Pastoral Elegy- Against repining at Fortune Conscience , an Elegy - Damon to his Friends , a Ballad Retirement Ode to Hope The Rivers of Scotland ...
Gyakori szavak és kifejezések
aften Arthur's Seat Auld Reikie baith beauty blaw blest blythe bonny braw breeze browster busk caller canna canty cheer chiel cottar cou'd death dowy e'en e'er Eclogue Edina's Elegy ev'ry fair Fancy Fergusson Fife flow'rs fock frae friends gales glowr green groves hail hame happy hath heart heeze ilka lads lang's lasses lyre maun mind mirth mony morn mourn Muse Nae mair Naiads ne'er never night numbers o'er plain poem poet poortith pow'r ROBERT FERGUSSON round SAMUEL JOHNSON scene seenil shade shepherd shore shou'd sighs siller simmer sing smiles song spring strain streams swain sweet thee thir thole thou thro tongue trow Twas unco virtue voice wame weel weet Whan Whare Whase Whilk wing wirrikow wonted yence youth
Népszerű szakaszok
106. oldal - 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.
52. oldal - Sing his praises that doth keep Our flocks from harm, Pan, the father of our sheep ; And arm in arm Tread we softly in a round, Whilst the hollow neighbouring ground Fills the music with her sound.
105. oldal - Maks mony kail-worms butterflies, Gies mony a doctor his degrees For little skaith : In short, you may be what you please Wi' gude Braid Claith. For thof ye had as wise a snout on As Shakespeare or Sir Isaac Newton, Your judgment fouk wad hae a doubt on, I'll tak my aith, Till they cou'd see ye wi* a suit on O
116. oldal - An' may they scad their lips fu' leal, That dip their spoons in ither's kail. ODE TO THE GOWDSPINK. Jr RAE fields where Spring her sweets has blawn Wi' caller verdure our the lawn, The Gowdspink comes in new attire, The brawest 'mang the whistling choir, That, ere the sun can clear his ein, Wi' glib notes sane the simmer's green.
117. oldal - mang the sudden fa's O' winter's dreary dreepin' snaws. Now steekit frae the gowany field, Frae ilka fav'rite houff and bield, But mergh, alas ! to disengage Your bonny bouck frae fettering cage, Your free-born bosom beats in vain For darling liberty again. In window hung, how aft we see Thee keek around at warblers free. That carrol saft, and sweetly sing Wi
168. oldal - The scansing glories o' carmine ! Ah, legs ! in vain the silk-worm there Display'd to view her eident care ; For stink, instead of perfumes, grow, And clarty odours fragrant flow. Now some to porter, some to punch, Some to their wife, and some their wench, Retire, while noisy ten-hours' drum Gars a' your trades gac dand'ring home. Now mony a club, jocose and free, Gie a...
140. oldal - TO THE TRON-KIRK BELL. WANWORDY, crazy, dinsome thing, As e'er was fram'd to jow or ring, What gar'd them sic in steeple hing They ken themsel', But weel wat I they cou'dna bring Waur sounds frae hell.
127. oldal - An' loup like Hebe o'er the grass, As wanton and as free, Frae dule this day. 'I dwall amang the caller springs That weet the Land o' Cakes, And aften tune my canty strings At bridals and late-wakes: They ca...
98. oldal - For nought can cheer the heart sae weel As can a canty Highland reel; It even vivifies the heel To skip and dance: Lifeless is he wha canna feel Its influence. Let mirth abound ; let social cheer Invest the dawning of the year; Let blithesome innocence appear To crown our joy; Nor envy, wi' sarcastic sneer, Our bliss destroy.
134. oldal - O mock na this, my friends ! but rather mourn, Ye in life's brawest spring wi' reason clear ; Wi' eild our idle fancies a' return, And dim our dolefu' days wi' bairnly fear ; The mind's ay cradled whan the grave is near.