Poems; to which is prefixed a memoir of the author by J. M'Diarmid (Google eBook)

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Page 498 - GOD moves in a mysterious way His wonders to perform ; He plants his footsteps in the sea, And rides upon the storm. Deep in unfathomable mines Of never-failing skill, He treasures up his bright designs, And works his sovereign will. Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take, The clouds ye so much dread Are big with mercy, and shall break In blessings on your head. Judge not the Lord by feeble sense, But trust him for his grace ; Behind a frowning providence He hides a smiling face.
Page 91 - Twas my distress that brought thee low, My Mary ! Thy needles, once a shining store, For my sake restless heretofore, Now rust disused, and shine no more ; My Mary...
Page 382 - One song employs all nations ; and all cry " Worthy the Lamb, for he was slain for us-! " The dwellers in the vales and on the rocks Shout to each other, and the mountain tops From distant mountains catch the flying joy ; Till, nation after nation taught the strain, Earth rolls the rapturous Hosanna round.
Page 91 - Thy indistinct expressions seem Like language uttered in a dream; Yet me they charm, whate'er the theme, My Mary ! Thy silver locks, once auburn bright, Are still more lovely in my sight Than golden beams of orient light, My Mary! For could I view nor them nor thee, What sight worth seeing could I see ? The sun would rise in vain for me, My Mary! Partakers of thy sad decline, Thy hands their little force resign; Yet gently prest, press gently mine, My Mary!
Page 258 - Of neighbouring fountain, or of rills that slip Through the cleft rock, and, chiming as they fall Upon loose pebbles, lose themselves at length In matted grass, that with a livelier green Betrays the secret of their silent course.
Page 468 - What news? what news? your tidings tell ; Tell me you must and shall Say why bareheaded you are come, " Or why you come at all ?" Now Gilpin had a pleasant wit, And loved a timely joke ; And thus unto the calender In merry guise he spoke : "I came because your horse would come, And, if I well forebode, My hat and wig will soon be here, They are upon the road.
Page 93 - Nor, cruel as it seemed, could he Their haste himself condemn, Aware that flight, in such a sea, Alone could rescue them; Yet bitter felt it still to die Deserted, and his friends so nigh. He long survives, who lives an hour In ocean, self-upheld; And so long he, with unspent power, His destiny repelled; And ever, as the minutes flew, Entreated help, or cried 'Adieu...
Page 283 - Like whom ? The things that mount the rostrum with a skip, And then skip down again ; pronounce a text; Cry hem; and reading what they never wrote, Just fifteen minutes, huddle up their work, And with a well-bred whisper close the scene...
Page 418 - I AM monarch of all I survey, My right there is none to dispute ; From the centre all round to the sea, I am lord of the fowl and the brute.
Page 510 - I kept him for his humour's sake, For he would oft beguile My heart of thoughts that made it ache, And force me to a smile.

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