A New Year's Eve and Other Poems

Framsida
John Hatchard and Son, 1828 - 244 sidor
 

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Sida 37 - Absorbed in wakeful thought he lay Of Scotland and her crown. The sun rose brightly, and its gleam Fell on that hapless bed, And tinged with light each shapeless beam Which roofed the lowly shed; When, looking up with wistful eye, The Bruce beheld a spider try His filmy thread to fling From beam to beam of that rude cot: And well the insect's toilsome lot Taught Scotland's future king.
Sida 53 - Its quiet beauty feeds The alders that o'ershade it with their boughs. Gently it murmurs by The village churchyard ; its low, plaintive tone, A dirge-like melody, For worth and beauty modest as its own. More gaily now it sweeps By the small school house, in the sunshine bright ; And o'er the pebbles leaps, Like happy hearts by holiday made light.
Sida 161 - And when we reach life's closing stage, Worn out with care or ill, For childhood, youth, or hoary age, Its arms are open still. But prouder yet its glories shine, When, in a nobler form, It floats upon the heaving brine, And braves the bursting storm ; Or when to aid the work of love, To some benighted clime It bears glad tidings from above, Of...
Sida 54 - By the small school-house, in the sunshine bright ; And o'er the pebbles leaps, Like happy hearts by holiday made light. May not its course express, In characters which they who run may read...
Sida 37 - In five successive fields of fight Been conquered and dismayed; Once more against the English host His band he led, and once more lost The meed for which he fought; And now from battle, faint and worn, The homeless fugitive forlorn A hut's lone shelter sought. And cheerless was that...
Sida 47 - The little birds that sing all day In many a leafy wood, By Thee are clothed in plumage gay, By Thee supplied with food.
Sida 158 - Tis not the yew-tree, though it lends Its greenness to the grave ; Nor willow, though it fondly bends Its branches o'er the wave ; Nor birch, although its slender tress Be beautifully fair, As graceful in its loveliness As maiden's flowing hair. 'Tis not the poplar, though its height May from afar be seen ; Nor beech, although its boughs be dight With leaves of glossy green.
Sida 53 - Steeping the rocks around— 0 ! tell me where Could majesty and power Be clothed in forms more beautifully fair? Yet lovelier, in my view, The streamlet flowing silently serene ; Traced by the brighter hue, And livelier growth it gives— itself unseen ! It flows through flowery...
Sida 77 - O'er every object sheds a hue That long must linger here. Amid these scenes the hours were spent Of which we reap the fruit ; And each is now thy monument, Since that sweet lyre is mute. " Here, like the nightingale's, were pour'd Thy solitary lays," Which sought the glory of the Lord,
Sida 32 - Cease ye from man, whose breath is in his nostrils : for wherein is he to be accounted of?

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