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Sida 76 - There came from me a sigh of pain Which I could ill confine; I looked at her, and looked again : And did not wish her mine !' Matthew is in his grave, yet now, Methinks, I see him stand, As at that moment, with a bough Of wilding in his hand.
Sida 385 - What though the radiance which was once so bright Be now for ever taken from my sight, Though nothing can bring back the hour Of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower ; We will grieve not, rather find Strength in what remains behind ; In the primal sympathy Which having been must ever be ; In the soothing thoughts that spring Out of human suffering ; In the faith that looks through death, In years that bring the philosophic mind.
Sida 340 - Like clouds that rake the mountainsummits, Or waves that own no curbing hand. How fast has brother followed brother From sunshine to the sunless land ! Yet I, whose lids from infant slumber Were earlier raised, remain to hear A timid voice, that asks in whispers, " Who next will drop and disappear...
Sida 385 - On that best portion of a good man's life, — His little, nameless, unremembered acts Of kindness and of love.
Sida 166 - Blessings be with them — and eternal praise, Who gave us nobler loves, and nobler cares—- The Poets, who on earth have made us heirs Of truth and pure delight by heavenly lays ! Oh ! might my name be numbered among theirs, Then gladly would I end my mortal days.
Sida 60 - After hearing these sermons you might come away still not believing the tenets peculiar to the High Church system; but you would be harder than most men, if you did not feel more than ever ashamed of coarseness, selfishness, worldliness, if you did not feel the things of faith brought closer to the soul.
Sida 327 - But he's ta'en aff his gude steel cap, And thrice he's waved it in the air — The Dinlay snaw was ne'er mair white Nor the lyart locks of Harden's hair. " Revenge ! revenge ! " auld Wat can cry ; " Fye, lads, lay on them cruellie ! We'll ne'er see Teviotside again, Or Willie's death revenged sall be.
Sida 360 - Here was a man, a son of toil, looking out on the world from his cottage, on society low and high, and on nature homely or beautiful, with the clearest eye, the most piercing insight, and the warmest heart; touching life at a hundred points, seeing to the core all the sterling worth, nor less the pretence and hollowness of the men he met, the...