The book of Scottish poems: ancient and modern, ed. with memoirs of the authors by J. Ross (Google eBook)

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J. Ross
1878
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Page 465 - From seeming evil still educing good, And better thence again, and better still, In infinite progression.
Page 739 - A wet sheet and a flowing sea, A wind that follows fast, And fills the white and rustling sail, And bends the gallant mast; And bends the gallant mast, my boys, While, like the eagle free, Away the good ship flies, and leaves Old England on the lee. O for a soft and gentle wind!
Page 706 - There is a spot of earth supremely blest, A dearer, sweeter spot than all the rest, Where man, creation's tyrant, casts aside His sword and sceptre, pageantry and pride, While, in his softened looks, benignly blend The sire, the son, the husband, brother, friend.
Page 551 - Ah ! who can tell how many a soul sublime Has felt the influence of malignant star, And waged with Fortune an eternal war ! Checked by the scoff of Pride, by Envy's frown, And Poverty's unconquerable bar, In life's low vale remote has pined alone, Then dropt into the grave, unpitied and unknown ! ii.
Page 464 - Ye woodlands all, awake : a boundless song Burst from the groves ! and when the restless day, Expiring, lays the warbling world asleep, Sweetest of birds, sweet Philomela, charm The listening shades, and teach the night His praise.
Page 464 - As home he goes beneath the joyous moon. Ye that keep watch in heaven, as earth asleep Unconscious lies, effuse your mildest beams, Ye constellations, while your angels strike, Amid the spangled sky, the silver lyre.
Page 469 - In lowly dale, fast by a river's side, With woody hill o'er hill encompassed round, A most enchanting wizard did abide, Than whom a fiend more fell is nowhere found.
Page 388 - The Evergreen. Being a Collection of Scots Poems, Wrote by the Ingenious before 1600.
Page 463 - With light and heat refulgent. Then thy sun Shoots full perfection through the swelling year ; And oft thy voice in dreadful thunder speaks, And oft at dawn, deep noon, or falling eve, By brooks and groves in hollow-whispering gales. Thy bounty shines in autumn unconfined, And spreads a common feast for all that lives.
Page 464 - Th' impetuous song, and say from whom you rage. His praise, ye brooks, attune, ye trembling rills ; And let me catch it as I muse along. Ye headlong torrents, rapid and profound...

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