Poems and Songs

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Gardner, 1874 - 387 oldal
 

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xliii. oldal - Like the vase in which roses have once been distilled — You may break, you may shatter the vase if you will, But the scent of the roses will hang round it still.
173. oldal - Dumblane. Sing on, thou sweet mavis, thy hymn to the e'ening ; Thou'rt dear to the echoes of Calderwood glen : Sae dear to this bosom, sae artless and winning, Is charming young Jessie, the flower o
172. oldal - Dumblane. How sweet is the brier, wi' its saft faulding blossom, And sweet is the birk, wi' its mantle o' green ; Yet sweeter and fairer, and dear to this bosom, Is lovely young Jessie, the flower o
xliii. oldal - Let Fate do her worst ; there are relics of joy, Bright dreams of the past, which she cannot destroy ; Which come in the night-time of sorrow and care, And bring back the features that joy used to wear. Long, long be my heart with such memories...
160. oldal - Beneath the golden gloamin' sky The mavis mends her lay; The redbreast pours his sweetest strains To charm the lingering day; While weary yeldrins seem to wail Their little nestlings torn, The merry wren, frae den to den, Gaes jinking through the thorn. The roses fauld their silken leaves, The foxglove shuts its bell; The honeysuckle and the birk Spread fragrance through the dell. — Let others crowd the giddy court Of mirth and revelry, The simple joys that Nature yields Are dearer far to me.
167. oldal - The auld castle's turrets are cover'd wi' snaw ; How changed frae the time when I met wi' my lover Amang the broom bushes by Stanley green shaw : The wild...
184. oldal - When the rude wintry win' Idly raves round our dwelling, And the roar of the linn On the night breeze is swelling, So merrily we'll sing, As the storm rattles o'er us, 'Till the dear shieling ring Wi' the light lilting chorus. Now the simmer is in prime, Wi' the flowers richly blooming, And the wild mountain thyme, A...
174. oldal - She dwelt among the untrodden ways Beside the springs of Dove, A Maid whom there were none to praise And very few to love : A violet by a mossy stone Half hidden from the eye! Fair as a star, when only one Is shining in the sky.
183. oldal - Mang the bonnie Highland heather ; Where the deer and the rae, Lightly bounding together, Sport the lang simmer day On the braes o
173. oldal - How lost were my days till I met wi' my Jessie, The sports o' the city seemed foolish and vain; I ne'er saw a nymph I would ca' my dear lassie, Till charm'd wi' sweet Jessie, the flower o...

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